Phoenix Resurgent
by Vyrexuviel
Summary: What if, Shepard didn't truly die at the beginning of Mass Effect 2? What if the Collectors didn't -quite- succeed in killing her? What if, she took Alchera's cold to heart? Let's find out... Read & Review, Please!
1. Chapter 1

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

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><p>The most terrifying thing about dying was the silence of it.<p>

Shepard just managed to hit the eject button for Joker's escape pod before the explosion rippled through what little atmosphere was left in the Normandy. The explosion ripped through her in a wave of crushing force and sent her hurling first into a support beam, then through the roofless CIC and into raw space, all of it in dead silence. The first sound that Aurora "Valkyrie" Shepard heard after the death of the Normandy was the hissing of her burst airhose. She struggled with it, trying to hold in her precious oxygen for a few more seconds, before realizing that it was futile. She needed a miracle to survive this experience, being hurled into space from a dying ship, with no suit-repair kit to hand. She was going to die and nothing she could do would save her.

That was when the migrane hit, hard and fast; but through the pain, her determination to survive, to thrive, to come to grips with Death himself and battle him into submission rose to the fore. She hadn't survived the Batarian raid on Mindoir or the Skyllian Blitz to die like this! The visor of her helmet turned toward the planet below as she screamed her defiance of death at the universe, even as her body was caught in the planet's atmosphere. She struck with unimaginable force, her armor burning away as she fell, screaming, not in fear or pain, but in fury.

_**~discontinuity~**_

The Old Minds felt the impact. A mind! A mind! Another mind after so, so long alone! They felt outward toward the surface, having been buried beneath drifting ice and snow that gradually compacted around their super-hard form.

It's fading fast! We must help it! There! The poor fleshy thing had been pierced by the top of their Spire, in fact, and it's internal fluid was melting the ice encasing its tip.

Compatibility! It is carbon-based, using calcium for support structure, iron-based particulates suspended in a hydrogen/oxygen compound. Most of it's body is hydrogen/oxygen!

It cannot survive here for long, we must help it!

Helping it will compromise Our integrity!

Our integrity doesn't matter, we are degrading anyway, why not hasten the process to ensure this mind's survival? It's carrier body will not survive much longer, we must -act-, not dither like hatchlings!

But HOW do we help it? We lost the manipulators 73043.692 long cycles ago!

The Old Minds worked quickly, sending electrical impulses spiraling in intricate, dizzying, fractal patterns throughout the mammoth underground structure, which began deep below the surface and rose to a needle-point protruding about three inches above the surface and into the body of the creature that had landed on them. In nano-cycles, they had reached a consensus. The 413 individual minds of the greatest scientists, philosophers, and poets of the age had been given the dubious honor of being refracted into a crystalline housing, to avoid the Demons of Entropy that were destroying their worlds one by one. The manipulators had failed about 85 cycles after the Purge had ceased, crumbling to dust in the increasing cold caused by the altered orbit of the planet. The shelling had slowly pushed the planet into a further orbit from it's primary, and it was just lucky that the crystal used to house the chosen few hadn't been one that was sensitive to cold. Though, at this long last, the crystal housing them was beginning to break down.

We must hurry. There is only one way. We must spread seed crystals throughout it's body and convert it like the Manipulators were converted from those curious tripeds.

But that might kill it, and most certainly will hasten the disintegration! The manipulators were the culmination of decades of study on the tripeds, we don't have the time for a similar in-depth study of this creature!

It is the only reasonable course of action. We have survived long past our time, and past our species' annihilation. This creature is from -now-. We must aid it as much as we can, since the timing is right for another Purge, if our xenoarcheology reports were accurate.

They were. This will be the 43rd Purge since our own.

Then we must do whatever we can to aid this creature survive the Purge. It was the reason we were refracted into this container to begin with, we MUST help!

Consensus was achieved, though slowly from some quarters, and the process began. They began by carefully partitioning off an area of the Spire for the creature's alien mind, then siphoning it from the creature into that storage space to save it from being damaged by the conversion process. Electrical discharges kept the creature's fluid-circulating organ functioning while thermal pulses kept it from freezing prematurely. Tiny specks of the most advanced crystal ever produced on Zentaila were slowly broken off into the circulatory fluid and guided via precise electrical currents to their proper place. The entire process used up approximately the top rell of the Spire, a measure in human terms of 9.3 millimeters, the seed crystals embedding into different organs and growing according to the electrical and thermal changes that the Old Minds carefully orchestrated throughout the twitching, jerking, electrified body impaled atop them. Slowly, the crystals grew, spreading out and absorbing the chemicals in the creature's body, assimilating their content and function, improving it and strengthening the creature against both cold and electricity, though the crystal's properties allow for near-limitless electrical storage capacity as well as high shock-resistance and tensile strength. Piezoelectric crystals grew in place of musculature, high-tensile crystals replaced bone, other crystals that secreted special fluids that other crystals used for self-repair and growth. It was a masterwork of crystal engineering, taking all of five minutes to complete the initial dispersal, a massive jolt of electrical energy jump-starting the conversion process. When at last the new body was complete, the Old Minds carefully fed the creature's mind back into it's new body, along with a wealth of information about the Old Minds.

That's all we can do now. Let's hope our Last Legacy will remember us.

About that, there may have been some leakage from the partition into the Main Nexus, and vice versa...

WHAT?

The creature may have some of our memories, some skill or technical knowledge, we aren't sure yet, accessing the places the creature's mind touched is extremely difficult. It's mind was not organized to any high degree, like Ours are.

Well, we shall hope for the best, then.

_**~discontinuity~**_

Opening her eyes took a great deal of effort, to crack the ice that had formed over them. Was that normal? She couldn't remember if it was or wasn't. Pain flared in dull beats across her body, and all she could see was white or black. The black was the twisted, charred pieces of some ship or other, the white was the snow. She licked her cracked lips, feeling the splits closing. This didn't taste like snow. How could she tell that? Doesn't matter, survival first.

She stood, the remnants of some sort of clothing sloughing from her, just a few badly-charred plates left, the rest having either burned off, melted, or crumbled in the cold. A frigid wind blew, but she didn't shiver. Her pale skin blended with the snow as she gazed around in confusion. Where the hell was she? For that matter, -who- was she? She looked down at the armor, and all she could see of it was a fragment of chestplate. She picked it up, her fingers slowly turning from a pale pinkish to a pale bluish color as she did, turning it over. Something about this piece was familiar, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out -what-. She stroked the symbols on the front, then dropped the chestplate piece, turning and looking at the crumbled remnats of the ship around her. She began pacing slowly away from where she woke, the last remnants of her armor peeling and flaking off, leaving a short trail in the snow before all that's left is footprints. And at the start of the trail, a chestplate piece, with N7 inscribed on it's charred, blackened surface rested beside the rapidly-disintegrating spire that poked above the surface of Alchera's ice. Soon, no trace of the Spire's existence remained, having crumbled to dust.

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><p>The mobile platform's foot ground into the powdery surface of Alchera as it dropped to one knee, examining the wreckage. Several processes were examining data it's myriad sensor systems accumulated about the wrecked ship on the surface.<p>

Process 0117: There is not much left of the ship.  
>Process 0031: There does not need to be.<br>Process 1002: Interesting. An armor fragment.

The geth platform carefully extracted a fragment of an N7 armor chestplate from the wreckage, scanning it intently.

Process 0082: It should serve.  
>Process 1137: It's dimensions will have to be adjusted.<br>Process 0009: Repair protocols initiated.

Slowly and methodically, the badly damaged prototype independent geth construct began working the armor fragment into a serviceable patch for the gaping hole in it's torso. All the while, other processes worked to examine the rest of the site, monitoring for any hostile activity or interesting piece of data. The platform paused, turned and moved to another, smaller patch of debris.

Process 1182: Scan results conclusive.  
>Process 1181: This was Shepard-Commander's armor.<br>Process 1183: We should preserve it.  
>Process 0001: Where is Shepard-Commander now?<p>

Using pieces of the nearly-charred armor chestplate and the other armor chunk it had procured, the Geth platform began repairs.

Process 0730: Fresh snowfall.  
>Process 0787: Outlines faint.<br>Process 0755: Tracks!

That got many other processes' attention, and the ground was thoroughly examined.

Process 0770: Debris trail indicates crumbling off a moving body.  
>Process 0008: Self-moving or impelled?<br>Process 0774: Self moving.  
>Process 0776: Tracks indicate debris was dislodged by motion of the body they were attached to.<br>Process 0006: Conclusions?  
>Process 0779: Shepard-Commander is alive.<p>

That thought brought a momentary pause. A full millisecond of awed silence reigned, then many processes went into high gear, attempting to solve how this might be achieved, given the available data, while many others were tasked to follow the trail as far as it could be followed. The construct trudged off through the gathering snowstorm, oblivious to the sub-zero temperatures or the rising gale.

* * *

><p>She danced slowly through the kata, taking time to get it -right-, even if it means doing each motion hundreds of times. She might not know who She was, but She remembered some of the training She once had. Whoever She had been, She had been a warrior, that much was clear.<p>

'Again.'

She begain the kata once more, working through the whole with only a few fumbles, quickly corrected.

'Again.'

With little to do in this place, She spent her time as best she could figure out how. She had been a warrior? Fine. She'll perfect her skill with what motions She could remember.

'Again.'

She slowed. Something was different. She turned. There. Just at the top of that rise, something warmer than the rest of this icy place. Another creature, then. No matter, She'll deal with it the same way She had with all the rest.

'Again.'

Perfection waits for no distractions.

* * *

><p>Justin James, 'JJ' to his squad mates, crouched on the rim of the crater-like valley. The shelter was odd, a haphazard pile of chunks of ice mortared with refrozen snow, but what really caught his eye was the figure doing some sort of martial arts form out in the open. It was clad in torn scraps of an armor undersuit, and moved with an unearthly grace. JJ hadn't seen even the asari commandos his group occasionally worked with move that well. And she was doing it at a rapid pace that should have tired her out quickly, but she'd been keeping it up for over fifteen minutes.<p>

He touched his earpiece to activate his intercomm. "Chambers, see if you can get crosshairs on the target."

Chambers responded with a curt "yes", as usual. Taciturn, Chambers. Good girl, and lethal with a rifle, but used one word where most would say two, and rarely spoke at all.

"We have company." Yao, their tech expert. "One, incoming. Synthetic."

JJ shook his head. "Damnit to hell, we got geth inbound! Chambers, take her down, we're pulling out."

The crack of a rifle shot was the only answer. The figure on the valley floor staggered slightly, then whipped around to stare at Chambers. 'What the fuck?' "Chambers, I said take her down, not shoot past her!"

Chambers's voice was higher than any of them had heard before, "I -hit- her! I nailed the back of her head!"

JJ's eyes widened in shock.

* * *

><p>The construct's eye-plate rose slightly at the distant sound of a sniper round.<p>

Process 0310: Gunfire.

It started moving faster. More gunfire, assault rifle this time. A scream, thin and somehow ethereal in the methane / ammonia atmosphere. It scrabbled up the side of a snow-dune and crouched near the top, getting a picture of the fight.

Process 0023: There! Far wall, 121.036m distant, bearing 031.00.45 mark 002.36.43

It's eyeplates narrowed. Blue Suns. One of the Suns fell, then another.

Process 0005: What is going on?

It crept slowly around the edge of the old crater, trying to get a better vantage. A figure was struggling with a big burly merc, he was trying to crush her to the ice, but she was having none of it, a blow slamming into his solar plexus with enough force to double him over.

The construct froze, watching with hardly a without movement, save for the plates about it's eye widening slightly. The figure spun, lashing out with a kick that caught the merc just in the side of his neck. The distinct crunch wasn't audible at this distance, but it saw the way his armor deformed. He fell, and the figure completed her spin, bare feet digging into the ice and snow, rushing with inhuman speed towards the last survivor of the five-man squad. The female figure was firing as fast as her sniper rifle would work, making the figure jerk to the side. Then the figure was on her, leaping forward and smashing her clenched fists straight into the sniper's helmet. This time the crack was audible, they were a good deal closer to the construct. The sniper fell, her head caved in.

Blood smeared the figure's hands and arms up to the elbow, and her feet and legs in places as well. Splatters of blood had sprayed across her face and torso, but even discolored and splattered with blood, the 1183 processes inhabiting the construct recognized her. It watched as if frozen as the figure strode toward it.

Process 0400: The way she moves is different from the organic video feeds.  
>Process 0427: Faster. More controlled.<br>Process 0466: Skin tone is different.  
>Process 0462: Hair as well.<br>Process 0005: Is it truly Shepard-Commander?  
>Process 0003: Consensus achieved.<p>

It was Shepard alright. No mistaking those features, even if her skintone was different. The figure stopped a few yards away and stared at the construct. Shepard was clad in what looked like torn and mended pieces of an armor undersuit, baring most of her to the frigid cold of Alchera's bitter methane winds.

* * *

><p>She stared at the shiny-skinned creature. This one was different, somehow. For one thing, it didn't immediately attack, so it was smarter than the other ones. She waited, still crouched and ready to defend herself, but the creature slowly rose up, hands raised. She narrowed her eyes. That was unusual. A sound, like the wind, but more modulated, familiar somehow. She frowned slightly, remembering.<p>

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><p>"Shepard-Commander. Please acknowledge." External speakers were on now, trying to talk to Shepard-Commander. The processes didn't know if the communication attempt was succeeding, or if the atmosphere was causing some sort of interferance. Shepard-Commander slowly lowered her arms, straightening and cocking her head slightly to one side. The platform ceases it's attempts at communication as Shepard-Commander speaks. The atmosphere does alter sound some, but not as much as they had feared. The content of Shepard-Commander's speach, once analyzed and translated, sparks new debate among the processes.<p>

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><p>Process 0903: Translated text: "Who are you? What are you?"<br>Process 0001: This presents a problem.

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><p>Author's Note:<p>

I hope you people enjoy this! This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic in well over 2 years, so I may be a bit rusty. ^^ On the other hand, I have a steady job now, so my time to write is limited both by that and by my ability to find inspiration, so after this two-chapter post, I think I might be able to hold myself to one chapter a week, but if not, how does biweekly sound? OK? Good, I thought you'd say that. ^^

Feel free to comment! Any and all Comments welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

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><p>She remembered the little ship the shiny-skinned one led her to. It wasn't anything like the wreckage of the ship she had woken among, being intact for one thing. Sleek, efficiently designed, almost all engine and power plant, it held a deadly grace that appealed to her, much like the shinyskinned one. It had taken some persuading to get her to enter the thing, but once she was aboard, the shiney one, who called itself Geth (and that name held some association that was maddeningly familiar) had taken off, letting her watch on a hologram (that was what it had called the glowing floating image) as the only world that she had known fell behind.<p>

Over the days and weeks that had elapsed, it had refreshed her lingering memories of language and knowledge, showing several vids of her species, or so it claimed. The fleshy, pink-skinned creatures seemed downright rude in their brash self-confidence, but something about the "asari" that Geth had shown her had stirred another sensation within her. A name hesitated lingering on her lips, though she didn't have a clue who or what "Liara" was supposed to mean. In all, it was both familiar and maddeningly vague, and Geth seemed singularly unhelpful when she at first asked, then demanded more information. She spent the last day sulking, ignoring Geth's attempts at communication while she worked through her kata in single-minded intensity.

It wasn't until Geth showed her the massive space fleet in the vid that she realized they had arrived at...wherever they were going. Docking was simple, and Geth led her into a simple chamber, down a corridor, to a large open space, full of what she now recognized as computers, all of them seeming to watch her, though she knew from her conversations with Geth that they weren't equipped for such observation. After a time, Geth turned to her and spoke quietly.

"The Geth have reached consensus. We wish to offer you our help in regaining what memories you may retain. Do you wish Geth assistance?"

She hesitated, frowning slightly at her sole companion, then shrugged slightly, "I suppose."

The shiny-skinned one bobbed it's flashlight of a head in what she took to be solemnity. "Then we will begin."

* * *

><p>What happened took place over the course of what she later learned was considered five small cycles in Geth terms. First, they scanned her in every way they could conceive of, learning exactly how she was constructed, down to the molecular level. That in and of itself had sent the Geth into a long silent spell as they considered the data, before returning with the next step: Testing.<p>

Testing, she later decided, was another word for torture.

The impact tests were the first. They tested when she was aware, and when she wasn't, followed by heartfelt apologies. Then came the electrical tests. That was less painful, but occasioned what she took to be intense interest, as they kept trying various kinds of current. Direct, alternating, pulsed, phased, various levels of amperage, wattage, voltage and impedance of all sorts. The bewildering variety of tests she was subjected to took several weeks, and was followed by an equally bewildering variety of attempted explanations.

Of course, she wasn't just subjected to the poke-and-prod throughout that time, she was also given 'lessons' by the geth she had first encountered. She had been thoroughly disabused of her notion that that individual's name was "Geth", and after some discussion, had christened it "Legion", after some text she half-remembered, and which Legion had clarified.

Legion's lessons took the form of personal history, starting with her supposed birth on a human colony called "Mindoir". The slaver raid, the subsequent child counseling, a long string of foster homes, until she was discovered as a latent biotic. Shipping off to biotic training, and later on, a military career. The Skyllian Blitz. That one was a nightmare, as bits and pieces of her old life started surfacing, finding herself teaching Legion about how to turn a civilian street into a killing box using only a few supplies she could scrounge together. For it's part, Legion absorbed this reminiscence with the same polite, attentive interest the geth showed to everything she said.

And of course, she kept up her practice. Legion even took it upon itself to show her several formal martial arts forms that the Geth had observed from the other races. Geth did not practice such things, it told her, though they were capable in unarmed combat. It was mostly due to the fact that they relied on the durability of their combat units to survive melee, instead of quick reflexes and instinctive reactions. Sparring with Legion was a treat that she savored. The geth could keep up with her easily, and even give her a challenge, though after the end of the second month, it was clear it was having to rely more and more on it's superior mass to close to grapple and pin her. She couldn't overpower it, though she was getting very good at escaping holds.

Legion explained to her that it had been ramping up it's use of strength, to accurately gauge her own strength, and found it above human norm, though not as high as krogan baseline strength. Her reaction time, however, was nearly on par with the Geth themselves, and she didn't have to build consensus before acting, which cut down on her overall speed compared to the Geth. One thing that she had found out almost accidentally was the fact that she no longer had the eezo deposits that had, in her previous life, given her her biotic powers. She wasn't sure what to feel about that particular loss, but decided to wait to decide how she felt about it until she had regained her memories. More and more things were triggering flashbacks now, and her mind was starting to assemble her history little by little, though every time she felt close to a breakthrough, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirror bright surfaces, and the moment slipped away.

It wasn't until nearly four months of training, re-learning, testing, and experimentation that the Geth gave her a present.

* * *

><p>Legion led her into a small testing room and she sighed softly, "I thought we were done with testing for today, Legion?"<p>

The personalized Geth turned and lifted one of it's brow-plates. "We are."

"Then why are we here?" She glanced around at the electrical testing equipment, then to the two slightly-larger heavy-lifting Geth who were bringing in a crate.

"We wished to give you a gift."

That brought her head around to Legion, one brow rising in imitation of the geth's habitual expression. "Oh? I didn't peg you as the gift-giving type."

The other geth were quickly unpacking something. "We do not completely understand the human need for body covering, but our tests have given us insight into your unique needs. This," Legion gestured to the collection of oddly shaped pieces of metal, fabric and electronics, "is meant to provide you with covering, and provide a self-contained environment when you venture out of a Geth ship."

She blinked at Legion, then moved over to the collection of metal bits, the two geth clearing out with the now-empty box. Her breath caught, and she had a sudden flashback to what was clearly a locker room, pulling on her combat hardsuit's undersuit, then adding on the complex fittings of the armored shell, the generator, the weapon pack, the shield generators spread throughout the suit...she shook her head, clearing the sudden, vivid image, gazing at the suit.

The fabric pieces were grey, what would be called gunmetal grey, she thought idly. The metal armored shell was highly polished chrome, though the odd sheen to the metal indicated it wasn't just steel. she hesitantly reached out to stroke the single-piece undersuit, feeling it's cool, smooth softness. Her hand slipped to the breastplate, cast in one piece and meticulously machined to perfectly fit her contours, she had no doubt. The vambraces, shoulder pauldrons, weapon pack on the center of her back, hip plates, crotch plate, thigh plates and grieves, the boots and helmet... she turned to smile tentatively at Legion.

"Thank you. Um, do you mind if I try it on?"

Legion gave her a slight 'shrug' and a brow-plate rise. She'd been teaching him human-style body language. "You may. We need to test the fit."

She gave him a slight smile and turned back to the layed-out suit components, starting to strip off the tattered clothes she'd worn ever since she could remember. She had completely gotten over being body shy around the geth, what with having to be completely bare for them to test her completely. pulling the undersuit on, she hesitated, feeling the fabric. "Conductive?"

Legion stepped over and nodded, "Part of the suit's modifications include using you as a power storage unit. The suit itself has no capacitors. The conductive layer delivers generated power to you, and draws power to power it's various functions from your body."

She nodded slowly, frowning a bit but shrugging as she pulled on the bodysuit, zipping it up and feeling an odd flutter pass through her. She figured that storing suit power inside her was a good idea. Her personal ability to store energy, though not infinite, had an energy density cap that had sent the Geth into mild hysterics, though she had to get Legion to explain the shock of the various geth minds. Another thing that they had verified by those seemingly endless impact tests was that her ability to resist damage increased the more energy she was storing at the time.

She lifted the weapon pack and chestplate and slipped it over her head, pulling the two halves closed with a soft click. after a moment, in which she stroked the form-fitting chestplate a little, she glanced over at Legion with a slight quirk of her lips. "Normal armor chestplates don't include nipples."

Legion's brow-plate rose slightly and it ducked it's head slightly to the anatomically-correct chestplate. "Ahh. We shall make the correction."

Smothering a chuckle, she continued to add the armor pieces to the undersuit. "Care to explain what this suit does, aside from cover me quite well?"

Legion began explaining, beginning with the fact that the Geth infiltrated Systems Alliance R&D pipelines to obtain the basic specs of the armor unit, which had been codenamed Kestrel. In addition to the decentralized sheild generation scheme and full-armored faceplate with built-in HUD, they had added specialized geth technology to increase the efficiency of the power plant, reducing it's size enough to allow for a second identical power plant to be installed without compromising armor flexibility or adding too much encumbrance. The elimination of the need for power storage allowed for extra sheild arrays to be embedded as well as muscle-feedback and amplification fibers to augment her already-considerable strength. The central master processor unit had been decentralized to three main nodes, one built into the helmet, one at the spine, and one built into the back of the hip guards, allowing for parallel processing of all the various shield arrays, diverting power to where it's most needed.

Most importantly, Legion added, is the entirely geth-originated tech. "The suit contains a cryogenic cooling system, to keep you within your optimal temperature range, between -40 and -10 degrees C. The suit's gauntlets include small micro-thrusters in the palms, along with considerable wrist-bracing, and simiar, though larger, thrusters are concealed in the heels of the boots. The suit's kinetic barriers can be switched to a 'lift' mode, wherein they lower the mass of the suit-and-wearer enough for the microthrusters to be able to lift the wearer and allow for flight, given enough practice."

That particular revelation stopped her cold for a bit as she stared at Legion, almost completely armored, save for her hands and helmet, examining one of the gloves intently for the thruster. After some time, she finished armoring up, lifted the helmet to seat it firmly on her head, Legion ran through checklists to make sure the armor powered up and finished integration. She arched a bit as the cryo system came online, chilling her down to the point where she felt fully awake and aware, turning to give Legion a smile as the Geth stepped back, nodding reassurance. Her HUD flickered into existence, showing her her surroundings, along with it's unique built-in targeting system. She turned to Legion to thank him, and gets a got look at herself in the mirrorbright wall behind him.

_**~discontinuity~**_

It was like getting hit between the eyes with a hammer made of memory. Every moment of her life flashed before her eyes, blinding in speed and intensity. Mother. Father. Home on Mindoir. The slave raid. Jessica falling with a hole through her chest. James being dragged away from his screaming mother. The rescue. Child psychologists. Foster parents. Biotic training. Enlisting. Training. Her celebration with her bunkmates over her acceptance into specops training. The hell that is special forces training. The Skyllian Blitz. Gunfire. Blood and thunder. Watching good friends die and not giving up. Never giving up. The Normandy. Eden Prime. The Citadel. Feros. Therum. LIARA!

Her head felt like it was going to split. Still more memories came flooding back, as inexorable as dawn. Noveria. Matriarch Benezia. Little Wing. Comforting Liara later aboard the Normandy. Virmire, and the mess that resulted in Alenko's death. Ashley's sorrow. The lockdown on the Citadel. Ilos. The conduit. Saren. Soverign. More blood and thunder. Saving the council. Udina and Anderson. The ignominy of being sent to clear the galaxy of Geth. Geth. GETH!

Her hand dropped instinctively to her hip, looking for her pistol, any weapon, as she realized she was in a room with a geth. No weapons. Damnit! Sh threw herself at the geth, which, strangely, didn't have a gun pointed at her.

* * *

><p>Legion instantly noticed when Shepard-Commander froze, staring fixedly at the wall behind it. A quick glance confirmed that the only thing visible was Shepard-Commander's reflection. Glancing back at her blank, slack-jawed face, Legion catalogued her posture, shifting slightly to the right, shoulders straightening, rising slightly on the balls of her feet. Her eyes were vacant, with a look that the geth platform noted for future reference, then snapped to it with an intensity Legion had never seen before.<p>

What followed was a very near thing. Shepard-Commander's hand dropped to her pistol holster (empty), then balled into a fist as she suddenly sprang at it. She fought with a ferocity that it had never observed before, not pulling her punches and seeking to cause as much damage as she could. Legion was hard-pressed to counter her attempts at disabling blows, and several processes switched on the external speakers, attempting to reason with the Shepard-Commander.

* * *

><p>The fact that the geth was TALKING finally penetrated Shepard's mind, making her pause for a beat, durring which her opponent slipped sideways and caught her in a bruising blow to the solar plexus. Gasping for breath, she staggered back a few places, then frowned slightly as the pain rapidly vanished.<p>

The geth was speaking again, "Shepard-Commander. Please respond."

She hesitated. In all her long experience with Geth, she'd never once heard one speak. "Y-yes?" she replied, tentative and dubious.

"Shepard-Commander, we do not wish to cause you damage in subduing you, please desist in hostile action."

"And why should I, -Geth-?" The term for the divided-mind synthetic species was almost spat at the oddly-constructed platform.

"We have been assisting you in your recovery, Shepard-Commander. We only wish peaceful cooperation with you."

Shepard frowned and looked sidelong at the apparently unarmed Geth, then around at the mirror-polished walls. "Where are you holding me?"

"This is not a holding cell, Shepard-Commander. This is a secondary assembly room. We were testing the fit of your new armor." It gestured to the armor she wore.

Shepard couldn't resist a glance down at her armor, then was held by the mechanical precision of the suit. Gleaming chrome edged the ablative armor plates, a subtle highlight to the matte-black ceramic and steel carapace. Each hardsuit exoskeletal plate glided smoothly with her movements, overlapping and gliding against each other with soft whispery movements. She flexed her arm, hearing the faint whine of suit servos amplifying the power of the motion, the heavy armor plates gliding smoothly and with machine-like precision in response to her every move.

"Nice design. Why?" She glanced up at the geth suspiciously, her hardsuit's tactical heads-up display rife with data about her surroundings. It was only a split second before she realized that in the bottom left corner there were -three- gauges instead of the traditional two. In addition to the normal 'Shield Strength' there was something labeled 'Residual Charge', and an extra bar labeled 'Cryo Containment'.

"We wished to provide Shepard-Commander with the best possible equipment for her return to Citadel Space." The Geth actually lifted a plate over it's flashlight head in a very human gesture, that of raising an eyebrow. Shepard had to suppress a grin at it's attitude of 'haven't you figured that out yet?'.

"Again, why? Geth don't take prisoners. Where am I and why have you brought me here?" She managed to get that out without betraying any of the butterflies in her stomach, and, wonder of wonders, keeping her voice steady.

"We found you on Alchera. You had been suffering from amnesia, perhaps due to your..." It paused for a moment, tilting it's head in a gesture so human Shepard just -had- to smile, and was glad her helmet concealed the gesture from her adversary. "Your transformation."

That stopped her humor. "What transformation. What the hell did you bastards do to me!" In a rush, she unsealed her helmet and yanked it off. She froze. Her FACE! Somehow, these thrice-damned machines had changed her face! And her skintone, and hair, and eyes...

"We did not, Shepard-Commander. We found you in this state, and have been performing tests to determine the extent of your transformation."

She uncoiled in a rush, slamming into the platform and driving it back into the wall, "What. Did. You. DO!" She emphasized each word by slamming the thing's head back against the wall. She slowly got her temper under control. Physical violence, short of destroying the platform, would be useless. The Geth would just shift their instances around and abandon the shell she destroyed. "Explain. Now."

And the Geth did. At length. And in excruiating detail. How they had sent out an experimental prototype platform with enough processing equipment onboard to act autonomously, when Shepard was listed as missing in action. How it had tracked down her last known location, through means that had made Shepard stare with wide, horrified eyes. Apparently the Geth could crack any security code used by any organic government in minutes, and had duplicate files of all of Shepard's reports, not to mention the Council's private files.

It went on to describe how it had found her on Alchera, and realized that in addition to her physical differences, her mind had been affected by the year and a half (that figure made Shepard wince) on the frozen wasteland. How it had persuaded her to accompany it back to the Geth, how they had tested her. It went over her entire repertoire of physical abilities again, but this time Shepard grasped the implications instantly.

She was stronger than any human had ever been, and with a reaction time damn near as fast as a Geth. Her crystalline structure could absorb electrical energy and store it within her, her eyes slowly glowing brighter and brighter as that charge built up towards it's theoretical limits. Her temperature requirements. The suit, designed specifically with her in mind, lacking any form of capacitor, but triple the power output of any suit created by the Systems Alliance suppliers, and with a better shield array than any suit she'd heard of, in Council space or out of it. The thrusters that, with a tweak of her suit's shields, would allow her to fly, which drew a soft smile from the woman.

She took a step back, absorbing the information, then spoke, "Why? You still haven't answered that question. Why me? Why did the Geth seek out the woman who's destroyed so many of your platforms?"

Legion (it had explained how she had dubbed it that) paused slightly, then raised one brow-plate. "We desired an intermediary. We have been monitoring unusual developments among the organics, and wish to convey our findings to the Council. For that purpose, we sought you out, Shepard-Commander."

She gestured with one hand slightly, "Spectre. I had to resign my Alliance commission once I was confirmed as a full-status Spectre, once my probationary period was up." She gave a slight quirk of one side of her wide, mobile lips. "That put Metalus into a week-long snit. The stick-up-the-arse turian has always had it in for me."

Legion's brow-plate rose slightly. "As you wish, Shepard-Spectre." That drew another slight smile from the woman.

* * *

><p>After some time, it was decided, mostly by Shepard herself, to go to Freedom's Progress. Primary in Shepard's mind was the uneasy truce she and the Geth seemed to be enjoying, but she wanted a second opinion about them, and the only person she could think of off hand that'd have a diametrically opposed view to that of the Geth would be Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Vas Neema, now, the Geth informed her, which made her shiver a little. Did they have to keep such close tabs on -everyone-?<p>

For some reason, Tali and a group of her people's Migrant Fleet Marines were dispatched to Freedom's Progress, a human colony in the Traverse. Why a Quarian would be on a human dirt-side colony was anyone's guess, but she figured this Veetor was on his Pilgrimage. In any event, that's where Tali was going, so that's where she was going too.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Here's the second chapter, as promised. If this gets enough hits (dunno, is 20 too much to hope for? ^^;;) I'll post the next chapter early, maybe.

One other thing: Any and all suggestions for where to go from here are vastly appreciated! If you've got an idea you wanna toss me, please so!

As always, Read & Review, please!


	3. Chapter 3

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Freedom's Progress. One of the newer colonies started by old Earth, still in it's first year, with prefab buildings comprising 95% of construction at the moment. Dull, drab and grey. And snowy to boot. The planet is colder than Earth norm, with no deserts save the arctic kind, but the colony was situated in the equatorial belt, with a nearly year-round temperate zone. Even so, the axial tilt of the planet gives a mild winter season, and snowflakes drift down to lightly settle on the armored carapace of the two figures stepping from the grounded Geth Scout.<p>

The geth ship was a marvel of engineering. Sleek, glossy and wickedly curved, it's nonetheless extremely well-designed for it's role as a deep-penetration scout and infiltrator. An extremely high-tech system actually changed the color of the surface to make it blend into it's surroundings, and when in power-down mode emitted barely more energy than a well-armed trooper with full armor and weapons. On the other hand, it's sublight engines were enough to outrun anything in the Alliance or council fleets, though certain racers might be able to catch it. The internal structure was highly robust, able to sustain quite a bit of damage before function is impaired, though it's unique chameleon skin would be destroyed at the first shot that hit. An oversized eezo core allowed it to run for extremely long periods without discharging, though Shepard carefully concealed the way the similar-ratio'd Normandy could move without using it's reaction thrusters.

Shepard stepped quietly around another corner, moving through an emptied housing unit and frowning as she glanced around. Her armor had been upgraded a bit, getting rid of those absurd anatomically-correct nipples on her breastplate, though it had taken some persuasion to get the Geth to remove them. The second design they had shown her had included, for some bizarre reason, 4-inch heels on the combat boots, which she had vetoed instantly. After some haggling and discussion about the layout of the thrusters in both palm and boots, they had compromised on a two-inch heel to provide superior lifting power and attitude stabilizers embedded in the wrist vambrace, leaving her gloves less cumbersome. Which is quite useful now as she drew her pistol, motioning Legion to fall back and set up its sniper rifle.

"Something's not right here. There should be people all over, where -is- everyone?"

They had chosen this particular spot as it was the last known destination of one Tali'Zorah Vas Neema, along with a group of quarian commandos for some unknown purpose. Geth intelligence was good, but they hadn't infiltrated the Migrant Fleet's internal comm network, so had no idea what Tali's orders were. Shepard had picked Tali as her first recruit primarily as a balance against what the Geth were telling her. She still wasn't sure what their agenda was, and if anyone could act as devil's advocate to the Geth, it was Tali. Also, she trusted the young quarian after having dragged her all over the galaxy two short years ago.

Movement.

Shepard held her weapon ready and squinted through her faceplate. That was another aspect of her armor she liked. Unlike the thin eye-plate of the full rebreather N7-helmet, this re-designed helmet shielded her entire head with extra-thick ceramic-compostite and armorplate, with everything from her brow to her chin, and cheekbone to cheekbone exposed and armored over with an inch-thick plate of transparasteel, with multiple layers of liquid crystal displays sandwitched into the faceplate, giving her a very superior HUD, even compared to the milspec one she enjoyed as an N7 operative. It took more practice to learn how to use the displays, but a little extra info could mean the difference between life or death.

She rapidly flicked through view-overlays. Nothing on the UV band, the visual spectrum was good, but there were still large pools of shadow. Ahh, there. The thermal imaging view showed strong heat-traces in that building, and two more approaching from the other angle. To judge by the thermal spread, the two approaching figures were either human or asari, though probably human, and the ones inside the building were quarian. No mistaking that thermal signature, most of the heat being vented by a single spot on the small of the back. Five of them, no six. Shit. This could get nasty.

"Hang back until you get my signal to advance. There might be a firefight here in a bit. There's quarians down there, so don't show yourself until I've got a chance to explain things to them."

"Acknowledged." Legion's laconic phrasing was terse and to the point. So. Onward.

She murmured under her breath, 'Once more into the breach my friends...' and slipped down the ramp towards the building.

* * *

><p>Miranda was vexed. And that was putting it mildly.<p>

Jacob stifled a sigh as the overbearing woman stalked (there was no other word for it) down the catwalk, SMG at her side, and fairly radiating fury. Things had not gone well for the apple of the Illusive Man's eye. They had tried and failed to recover Shepard's body, and that was when things had started going downhill. Miranda had grown more and more erratic of late, as the Illusive Man piled more and more responsibilities on her in the wake of Shepard's death. The brunette was near the cracking point, and Jacob wanted to be behind a wall when she finally did crack. A -thick- wall. A long way away.

Miranda smashed her fist into the activation plate of the next door, and it snapped aside.

* * *

><p>Guns were swept up with well-trained reflexes. ARs clacked as they chambered their thermal sinks, and Prazza's voice called out, "Stop right there!"<p>

"Who the -fuck- are you?" a feminine voice retorted. Human. Tali quickly shut down the holovid projector, letting Prazza's squad handle it for the moment. Which is why she was the only one to notice the second door unseal. The voices of Prazza and the unknown woman (it sounded like a human, but she couldn't be sure without looking) dwindled to a background hum as she snapped her head up and stared into a face she knew. A very familiar face indeed. An impossible face.

"Sh-Shepard...?"

* * *

><p>'Ohhh, I am SO saving that image!' ran through Shepard's mind as she grinned at the UV-enhanced image of Tali's thunderstruck face. Then the quarian was bouncing to her feet and taking a stride toward her. Tali paused, her own pistol held ready, though not pointed at Shepard, who had wisely put her own pistol away.<p>

"Shepard? Is that...you're alive?" The wistful, surprised, wanting, no -needing- tone in Tali's filtered voice made Shepard's heart surge. Tali. Her dear, sweet Tali.

"Yes, Tali. It's me. I'm back." She spread her arms, took a step forward and was nearly bowled over by the energetic quarian, who hugged her back just as tight as ever she could. Shepard couldn't help grinning like a fool, though she eventually noticed that Prazza's squad had their guns divided about equally between the two humans (she was right, there!) and her. She made a gentle 'weapons down' gesture that had a few of them lower their weapons, though they didn't holster them.

* * *

><p>Jacob's attention was mostly centered on the guns being pointed at him, but he couldn't help notice the smaller quarian in the back embracing someone that was suited in a very unusual armor. He couldn't get a good angle on the face, especially with his attention divided like this, but one look at Miranda's slack-jawed, bug-eyed, flabbergasted face told him something big was up.<p>

* * *

><p>The woman was dithering as Shepard gently peeled Tali off her, the Quarian making an effort to get her emotions under control. She still was young for her race, though she seemed to have moved up in the world, if she was commanding a commando squad. "What're you up to here, Tali? I thought you'd be back on the Migrant Fleet after your Pilgrimage."<p>

"I was, I'm on special assignment from the Admiralty Board this time." Tali's voice held a note of glee that had Shepard's lips twitching slightly. Thank goodness Tali couldn't get a good look at her face right now. The faceplate filtered her blue-tinged features back to a more normal human-pink. She looked like an animated frozen corpse, the few times she'd looked at herself since her memories returned.

"What's up? It's unusual to find Quarian Migrant Marines this far from the Fleet." Her gaze glanced over to the two humans, and her eyes narrowed suddenly. "It's also unusual to find Cerberus operatives on a human world. I wonder if you had something to do with the colonist's vanishing."

Her reflexes were just as fast as ever, slipping quickly and efficiently through the quarians to stand before the two humans. Both of them had prominent Cerberus logos. She had grown to loathe the shadowy organization during her rush across the galaxy. She'd found project after project of Cerberus's across the Attican Traverse, every one of them seeming to have thrown every ethical rule out the window.

The two operatives stepped back, the dark-skinned man raising his shotgun instinctively. 'Systems Alliance trained, bygod. He's either a deserter or a convert.'

The woman stepped forward again, her sculpted face glaring back at Shepard. "I'm Miranda Lawson. We've been looking for you, Commander Shepard."

"Really. Most Cerberus operatives I've found before usually wanted me to go away as fast as possible, punctuating the point with bullets. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here."

The woman had steel in her, she barely flinched as Shepard leaned close. "Human colonies like this one are disappearing. Every last man, woman and child, gone. The Council doesn't care, and the Systems Alliance is too bogged down with red tape to do any real good. Only Cerberus has a chance to do something positive to find and stop the ones responsible."

Shepard arched an eyebrow, thinking fast. The Geth had noted a pattern of sudden complete communications blackouts among new-founded human colonies of late, though it was anybody's guess what had happened to them. It was one of the reasons why Shepard had finally decided on gathering up her old teammates to find out the answers to the mound of questions. Cerberus might be an intrinsically ethics-free organization, but they -were- quite efficient with their little projects. No. The taint of Cerberus ran too deep. All those deaths for no reason at all.

"Best get out of my sight, Miranda Lawson. If I ever see you again, it will end badly for you." She leaned forward and, on a whim, dropped the filtration layer of her faceplate, letting her blue skin show through untouched by artificial coloration. Her lips quirked slightly as the woman's large, pretty eyes went wide and she stumbled back a few steps. Shepard restored the color tint to her faceplate and turned back to the quarians, pointedly turning her back on the Cerberus Operative.

* * *

><p>Miranda gulped. If that was the woman she had been supposed to revive, she was glad that Lazarus Project had been scrapped. She would not have liked to have to try and control -that- sort of woman. And good GOD, what had -happened- to her on Alchera? That blue skin, white hair and deep-blue eyes was just, unnatural! At least for a human. Miranda suddenly thought that it might be quite prudent to leave Freedom's Progress poste haste. She'll have to explain to the Illusive Man why she came away without any leads, but, well, aside from the quarians and, and Shepard, well, nothing else was here.<p>

She took a steadying breath. Yes. That's what she'll have to say. Nothing was here, just like the last two colonies. Nothing and no one.

* * *

><p>'A YMIR Mech. Why did it have to be a YMIR Mech?' Tali crouched behind a stack of boxes. Prazza, the idiot, had hared off on his own as she and Shepard had been catching up. She most emphatically did -NOT- trust the Geth that Shepard seemed to be lugging around, but after it had actually -talked- to her, she had decided to give it the benefit of the doubt, pending disassembly and decompiling of it's source code. But all that could wait until after dealing with this freaking annoying hunk of metal and bullets. A rocket whooooshed past her cover, making her glad she'd requisitioned a full envirosuit upgrade for this mission. Her previous suit would have been cut open by the whickering fragments from the rocket's detonation.<p>

At least the Geth seemed to be on their side, having slipped into a nearby building to snipe at the Mech, mostly drawing it's attention away from the pinned down human and quarian. But Shepard had this annoying habit of dashing out of cover to try and get close enough to do some real damage with that pistol of hers. Why oh why would the woman never listen to her and get herself a sensible weapon like a shotgun?

Shepard rolled out of cover at the same time Tali did, both of them snapping off shots, just like old times. Despite their predicament, the still-young quarian felt her heart lift as it hadn't in the last two years. Shepard's occasional snarky comments were just like old times, and even the Geth seemed to at least expect them, if not understand them.

"Come on you sonofabitch... THERE!" Shepard rolled around the other side of the cover she and Tali shared, dashing to another pile of crates, the YMIR's machinegun stitching the plascrete floor just behind her heels. Good grief, Shepard was fast. Tali tried to distract the mech with a few pumps of her shotgun, but only succeeded in attracting it's next missle.

"Readings indicate that the target's shielding has dropped by fifty three point zero five percent." Tali was still getting used to the flat, inflection-less voice of the Geth.

"Roger, Legion, see if you can disable one of it's legs. Tali, if you've got any tricks up your sleeve for handling these things, now would be a good time." The mech was slowly eroding Shepard's less-durable cover, the ex-marine darting out when it's weapon reached it's preset heat limit and it switched to a rocket. At least the rockets it fired were dumb-fire, they'd all be dead if they were smart munitions.

"Sorry, Shepard, this latest model of mech is sealed against my old tricks, I'll need to tap into my contacts on the extranet to find their weak points." Another five rounds, and eject. These new thermal clips were a quick way to get more ammo downrange, but they took forever to discharge the heat they accumulated.

"Damn. Well, time to try something different." That was the only warning Tali got. She watched in horror as Shepard rolled out of cover and started sprinting -toward- the mech, ignoring the fusillade of fire that quickly whittled down her shields, the energy field failing with a peculiar purple-violet flare. Still Shepard charged, impressively, no -impossibly- fast. 'is she using biotics or something?' the thought had barely flashed through the quarian's mind while her well-trained hands pumped more rounds at the Mech, the THOOOM of Legion's overbore sniper rifle cracking out, the flare of the mech's shields failing just as Shepard slammed into it with the force of a small bomb.

The mech rocked back, Shepard's weapons slung, both hands digging into the metal of it's chest carapace. That was the most heavily armored part of the mech, what the hell was Shepard thinking? "Shepard!"

A soft grunt through the commlink, "Erff, sonofa- Gotcha!" There was a rending sound, as the 5cm-thick armor plate started to rip free of the front of the mech. Servos whined as the mech tried to bring it's weaponry to bear, but the angle was awkward. It wasn't designed to try and fire at a being that was literally tearing it's armor off. As Tali watched, slack-jawed, Shepard managed to shove her right forearm up under the bent armor plate.

* * *

><p>Afterward, Tali reconstructed what happened. At first she wasn't sure if Shepard had found some sort of override or had just ripped out a hunk of electronics, at least not until the sudden loud snapping crackling from the Mech. Arcs of electricity started flowing out from it's chest, like little miniature lightning bolts. The stink of ozone, fried electronics, and burnt insulation floated across the empty loading bay, mercifully filtered out of Tali's sensitive nose.<p>

The mech had gone into an electronic version of an epileptic fit, flailing and screeching mechanically, Shepard wrestling with it, her forearm stuck into the rent she had torn in it's armor by main force alone, blue-white light flashing from that opening until the Mech had gone limp, sinking down on it's knee-joints and dragging Shepard down with it. She gave a soft grunt, a sigh, then her forearm slid out of the tear and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

The mech was dark and inactive, but it still took Tali a full five seconds to figure out that it was fully dead. By the time she had scampered over to Shepard's side, and Legion had arrived from whatever spot it had taken refuge in to snipe, Shepard was getting up again, but seemed a bit woozy.

"Wow. Remind me not to do that again." She smiled at Tali through her faceplate, her face still healthy pink despite her somewhat weak words.

"Alright, just what did you do, though?"

Shepard gave a wry, apologetic smile. "Well, I figured that if your old tricks weren't working, that meant they had to have fixed the bugs inherent in having a wireless access to the mech's programming. Which ment that the damn thing had to be inside a Faraday cage. The problem with Faraday cages is that they tend to conduct electricity, and this suit of mine has a very -very- large power source." She ducked her head in apology. "I figured that if I could get my forearm inside that cage, I could give the electronics a good hard jolt, and fry the mech's control systems. It was worth a shot, and it worked."

"W-Well, yes, but that doesn't explain how you managed to force open the armor plating! That's supposed to stand firm against vehicle-mounted weapons, and you just tore it open with your bare hands!"

"Not quite my bare hands, Tali. This suit has a whole lot of external muscle augmentation systems in it. Triple-redundant exoskeletal amplification can produce a -lot- of force when switched into override mode."

The explanation sounded accurate, but something still niggled at Tali. Shepard sounded, if not out of breath, at least tired. True, it -was- hard to control exoskeletons, she'd even heard about a poor quarian who was testing one out and broke an arm when it overextended after a too-vigorous swing. But Shepard seemed more fatigued than if she just had had to control an overpowered exoskeleton.

Shepard turned to the building that the mech had obviously been guarding, "Well, shall we see what this big hunk of junk was guarding so assiduously?"

* * *

><p>'Poor Veetor.' Shepard watched as the remnants of Praza's squad helped the young, infected Quarian out of his hidey-hole. 'No one so young should have to go through something like that.' She should talk. Memories of the slave raid and massacre on Mindoir suddenly sprang into her mind with crystal clarity. The blood, thunder, screams and cries, the laughter and the buzzing sound of shock sticks. Her hand clenched and she turned away, scanning Veetor's pieced-together footage into her Omnitool. She nearly jumped when a gentle hand touched her shoulder, turning to see Tali, her face concerned inside her helmet.<p>

"Shepard... What now?" She couldn't quite suppress a smile. Sweet, young Tali, always looking up to someone for guidance.

"We find the bastards that did this and make them pay for it. Just like last time." her lips quirked upward slightly as Tali nodded her head in vehement agreement. 'But first, we figure out exactly what happened to me...'

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Well, here we are, another chapter down. Please Read & Review! I'm sorta hitting a blank on the next bit, so it may be two weeks before I get the next chapter up, depends on how hard the Muse hits my head with that big mallet of hers...


	4. Chapter 4

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Omega. A line from an ancient 2D movie ran through Shepard's mind. "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy." Even so, Omega was relatively stable. The innermost section of the enormous station, the one closest to the ancient and long-disused mining platforms, was wholly controlled by the Blood Pack, a group of krogan mercs and their vorcha hangers on. Outer parts of the station were controlled by the Blue Suns merc group and the Eclipse, as well as other gangs, such as the Talons, who constantly vied for territory. The blood pack usually stuck to their area and didn't bother the other groups, save when they tried to muscle in on the krogan and lost a few squads in retaliation.<p>

And over it all, like a queen spider in a steel web, sat Aria. Aria T'Loak. Shepard had met Aria a couple times, but she still didn't know much about the asari pirate queen. While she commanded power in terms of the number of guns she could order around, her intelligence network was unsurpassed, save, perhaps, by that of the Council's Spectres. And even then, she wasn't sure. She commanded the respect of most of the pirate captains that docked at the ancient conglomeration of spires, mining equipment, and habitat towers that formed the largest unaffiliated space station in the Terminus Systems, true power indeed.

Shepard stepped off the ship and onto Omega feeling a bit of disgust. After the clean sterility of geth ships and stations, Omega felt filthy. Still, she was lucky to be standing here instead of blasted to smithereens. Tali had argued vehemently with Legion all the way back from Freedom's Progress to the regional geth base. And the fact that the geth -had- regional bases caused a bout of mild paranoid hysteria to the quarian woman. Over the last few weeks, Tali had finally persuaded the geth that a stereotypical geth ship profile would be noticed instantly and fired upon without any chance to identify its non-hostile intent. So, when they reached the Quadrant 00101101 base, they found a new ship half-completed, along the lines that Tali and the geth had hashed out. Tali had at first been surprised, then suspicious, then slowly enthusiastic when the geth were completely open with her about the ship's construction and design, eagerly (for geth) accepting her refinements and improvements.

Shepard glanced back at the Zero-Eight. That's what Tali had dubbed it, as the eighth design iteration of the design session that she and the geth had had. It was small, about half the size of the Normandy, but had a sufficiently large drive core and a phenomenally efficient power source. It could run for nearly twice as long as the Normandy herself before it had to discharge it's drive core, and even then it could usually reabsorb about 25% of the discharge energy into high-capacity batteries. And her personal quarters had their own power tap. That alone had sold her on the design. It turned out that Shepard didn't really feel awake in the morning until she had had a good dose of power from the ship's power feeds, similar to how she had been a coffee-hound back on the Normandy.

* * *

><p>After a salarian tried to welcome her to Omega, then a batarian informed her that Aria was waiting to see her, Shepard was somewhat curious. A glance over her shoulder at Tali produced no real response. The approach to Aria's bar was just as intriguing as the obsequious offer, then the peremptory order. Shepard's brow quirked at the three-story-tall animated display and stepped past the growing line. After all, if Aria wanted her bad enough to send a grunt to tell her at her ship... Sure enough, the formidably armed bouncer tapped the wide door's opening switch at her approach, letting her, Legion and Tali slip in despite the line. Some protests were cut off by the closing door, letting Shepard savor the pulse-pounding music echoing down the long corridor to Afterlife.<p>

About halfway down, a group of batarians were hanging out. Shepard noticed them but didn't slow, at least not until one of them grabbed his pistol and stood up. Then she turned slightly towards him as he spoke belligerently. "What're you looking at?"

She let the moment spin itself out, a slight smile quirking her lips upward a teensie bit. "A sad man who's got no idea what he's up against, and only stepping up to the chopping block out of peer pressure." She turned more fully towards him, her eyes glowing faintly through her face-plate's visor at the man. "I can forgive ignorance, but not stupidity. Which is it?"

After a bit, the batarian, obviously a bit startled by the glowing eyes, stepped back a bit. "I...Fine. You're off the hook. For now." He turned slightly to his mates and motioned for them to follow, heading back the way Shepard came.

Tali watched longer, then turned back, "Still got it, Shepard." Shepard snickered softly and turned back to the corridor, striding through the door.

* * *

><p>Afterlife was everything it had promised. Pulse-pounding music, asari dancers (Shepard had to tear her gaze away from one dancing around a pole atop the back bar that looked amazingly like Liara), a full circular bar and dozens of people. Alcoves had tables and booths, and everywhere, holographic flames licked and sputtered. Shepard turned slowly, then, glancing past the asari dancers, spotted a raised balcony, the glass walling it darkened to provide privacy. She turned slightly to Legion and nodded, taking a step around a turian patron and moving through the crowd with unconscious ease.<p>

Tali trailed in her wake, with Legion behind her. Watching Shepard move through a crowd, it was damn clear why she was so nasty in a firefight. She had an unconscious grace and fluidity to her movements that made her seem more like water than a person, finding gaps and slipping through with a minimum of fuss. Tali was hard-pressed to keep up, especially with the patrons being rather surly towards a quarian. the Geth, however, got a wide berth, people, even the drunks, stopping and staring as the synthetic being strode serenely in the quarian's wake.

By the time Shepard had reached the stairs leading up to the balcony, Tali was quite flustered. Two turians had accosted her, mistaking her for 'special entertainment', and two batarians and a human had tried to draw weapons on the Geth, until Tali explained it was a remotely operated construct. For spur of the moment inspiration like that, she remembered how Shepard had fast-talked dozens of people over the course of the investigation into Saren's affairs. It seemed to work, the human wanted to know when he might expect to buy one, and the Batarians bought the line that it was a prototype for a new type of bodyguard-mech.

Shepard was looking amusedly at her by the time Tali caught up. She still wasn't sure what was up with Shepard's new look, but Shepard had made it clear she could see Tali's face inside her helmet, which for some odd reason had made the young quarian quite nervous. It wasn't as if Shepard had seen her with her suit off, after all...

* * *

><p>The batarian guard stopped Shepard a few paces down from the balcony, and began scanning her. Shepard endured it stoically, but her lips twitched up when the batarian's scan came up with a red "Identity Unconfirmed". She murmured, "Aria, is this really necessary?"<p>

"Can't be too careful with dead Spectres. That could be anyone wearing your face."

Shepard couldn't help a small smile. "Don't bother comparing your scans to my previous records, then. I'm Shepard, alright, I still remember the last time we met, Aria. I couldn't tell if you were trying to get into my mind, or my pants."

Aria still had her back turned, but her lips quirked up at Shepard's reminder of the last time they met. After the Batarian showed her the new scans of the woman claiming to be Shepard, she turned around. Shepard had decided that trying to conceal her changed appearance was going to be more of a hindrance than a help in the long run. She was starting to finally accept her new form, especially with the considerable advantages it offered. And if most people's reaction was an instinctual flinch backwards, that only helped her Spectre reputation. As a result, she got a good look at Aria's reaction to Shepard's new appearance, through the transparent faceplate of her helmet.

The Asari rocked back slightly, then leaned forward a little, eyes narrowing a tiny bit. "Well, that's a surprise..."

"A few things got rearranged when I died, Aria. But let's get to business, shall we?"

Aria sat, still giving Shepard a suspicious glare, but indicating one end of the U-shaped couch on her overlook. "What do you need?"

"Answers, mostly. I was told a certain salarian scientist, one Dr Mordin Solus, was aboard your station. I'd like to meet him if possible."

Aria leant forward a little, giving Shepard a cool, appraising glance, "The salarian doctor? I heard her was trying to help plague victims in the quarantine zone." She chuckled slightly, glancing away from Shepard. "I always liked Mordin. He's as likely to heal you as shoot you."

"How do I get to him?"

"If you -really- need to find him, take a shuttlecraft to the quarantine zone. No guarantee they'll let you in, though."

Shepard rose smoothly to her feet, turning away and heading toward the stairs down from Aria's platform, "Thanks for the head's up. I'll let you know how it goes."

Aria's lips quirk up slightly. "If things go the way they usually do around you, Shepard, I won't need a report. I'll just listen to the explosions."

Shepard chuckled softly, half-turning and gave Aria a wink. "I'll try to be a bit more subtle. See you around, Aria."

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

OHHHHHH GOD, I'm so sorry for the long hiatus! Also sorry for the short update, this is what I had. It's unbeta'd, so please be gentle.

My muse and my beta seem to have flown the coop together, and I've got no one left around to poke me to write things down. It's maddening, as I've got all these ideas for later in the fic, and no way to get to them save slogging through the initial crap.

On a sidenote, anyone looking for a job as temporary beta, or even maybe -permanent- beta, if I can't get my original one back? Fair warning: I do expect my beta to poke me on occasion and remind me to write things down, usually on a daily basis. Anyone willing to do so, please gimme a PM!

Thank you again for your patience! Vyre, signing off!


	5. Chapter 5

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Tali reminisced as she walked the corridors of Omega. Working with Shepard again had brought back old memories of a young girl, out on her own for the first time, and in deep, deep trouble.<p>

* * *

><p>Tali ducked and flung a techmine at the salarians, scurrying into the alcove across from them, hoping to get out of their line of fire before their assault rifles could be brought to bear. The sudden THOOM of a high-powered sniper rifle ensured her safety, as the crumpling of one of the salarians snapped the other s attention, along with his turian counterpart, around to the new group behind them. Tali's first look at Shepard was of a dark-haired woman with deep-sapphire eyes, glaring down the sights of a heavy-duty pistol at the turian who had tried to feel her up.<p>

* * *

><p>Tali passed a few vorcha, ignoring their snarls. Even the vaunted adaptability of the primitive scavenger species couldn't handle the dextro-protiens in her metabolism. That didn't mean that vorcha didn't try to eat the occasional turian or quarian, but most of the ones that tried either died or were -extremely- sick for a very long time, and ironically wound up being eaten by their fellows. Vorcha weren't a real problem to her, not after two years tutelage under the exacting hand of Commander Aurora Shepard. Her fighting reflexes were among the best in the fleet, even including the Migrant Marines, and her heavily-customized shotgun was an old friend from the Battle of the Citadel.<p>

* * *

><p>Tali ducked behind cover, swearing in some moderate terror. Another planet, another firefight. Seriously, it was as if the tall woman who's crew she had joined was a magnet for all sorts of trouble. Krogan and Geth working together on Therum, more geth and a matriarch on Noveria, and now this ancestor-damned geth pack out in the Armstrong Nebula. It seemed as if something about the Normandy drew Geth like flies. She ducked her helmet a bit more as a bullet whined off the cover she was using, fumbling with her shotgun, trying to get the damn thing's overheat sensor to reset. Shepard, she saw, was ducking and rolling from cover to cover, using each moment of exposure to take down either the shields of, or the life of, one of those thrice-damned Geth.<p>

* * *

><p>Tali's gaze glanced around the rather seedy multi-level mini-market. Ahh, there was something new. She browsed her way through kiosks, seeing some upgrades she hadn't seen before, and which the Geth might be able to work into their weapons. It was strange, a quarian working with the Geth, but hell, if they were going to give (GIVE!) back the homeworld (!) it was in her best interests to make sure they had the best tech in the galaxy. The batarian running the first kiosk didn't want to give her a discount, but a bit of advice about how to rewrite his firewalls got his attention. Well, that and Tali mirroring his kiosk on her Omnitool. Who goes around on a station like this with only store-bought firewalls?<p>

* * *

><p>Hauling back all the salvage was normally the Krogan's job, him and Garrus. But Tali got first pick over anything that seemed likely to contain something of use. More than once the engineering crew had complained about the strewn-about mess of parts, but Adams had shut them up when Tali did a little maintenance on the drive core and improved efficiency a full 8%. Fitting new mods together and upgrading their weapons and armor was her job, as Shepard, Ashley, Kaidan, Garrus Liara and Wrex each had their own duties.<p>

The Asari was their researcher, hunting for clues to what Saren might be up to. The Krogan's responsibility was to keep the team in top physical form, and test armor upgrades. The Turian's job was to test the new gun upgrades (usually winding up with Wrex as the target) and to keep the ship's MAKO rover from bursting a gasket. The Soldier's duties included keeping the little group's weapons performance as high as their durability, and the human Biotic kept them all on their toes when it came to strategy.

In all, it was a well-rounded group, each adding his or her own expertise and talent to the pool.

* * *

><p>Talking with an elcor merchant, she got a distinctly 'off' vibe from him, though he did have some good tech. It was hard for other races to follow the tiny shifts in body posture and scent that were elcor nonverbal cues, doubly so for a quarian who had to filter the air almost beyond recognition. Even so, she got a distinct sense he was hiding something, so she decided to wander around a bit more and see what was up. Who knows, maybe she'd make a friend?<p>

* * *

><p>Feros was an ungodly mess. Fai-Dan shooting himself in lieu of following the Thorian's orders, then having to deal with clone after clone of that poor asari who had been trapped inside, the disgusting vegetative lifeform wore on Tali's nerves like nothing else did. Even after having destroyed it, the Thorian's tendrils spread over half the planet, and there were still dozens of poor colonists who had been wholly subsumed by the creature. Tali was very -very- glad for her envirosuit for once, and determined to go through decon when they got back to the ship until the top two layers of her suit came off. Even then she wasn't sure she'd -ever- be able to bring herself to wear the suit again.<p>

Shepard's hand on her shoulder made her jump a foot in the air, her nerves were so high-strung. Shepard's gentle smile and nod of encouragement did more for the young quarian's spirits than she could have imagined.

* * *

><p>Turning down a dingy, dimly lit corridor, Tali found a male quarian working on a pile of broken bits and pieces of tech. She blinked, wondering why a quarian would be on Omega, until she recognized the fit of the envirosuit he was wearing marking him as on Pilgrimage. He had a kiosk set up, and glanced up at her approach. He seemed as startled to see her as she had been to see him, switching off his pocket arc welder and brushing his hands off as he got up.<p>

"Uh, Hello there!" He fidgeted a little, "Might I interest you in some salvaged tech?"

Tali smiled under her faceplate. She had never been that young. "Maybe. Depends on what you're selling."

He shrugged and motioned towards the old, beat up, and much-repaired kiosk. "It's all on there. Every credit goes towards a ticket to get me off this forsaken rock."

Tali sighed quietly. Such was the way of most Pilgrimages. She herself had been almost destitute when she had gotten to the Citadel. "I buy a lot of parts and equipment. Maybe we can make an arrangement?" Maybe he won't accept charity, but if he's anything like I was, he'll definitely take a bit of 'good fortune'.

He seemed more cautious than eager though. "Well, you're a quarian, and not on Pilgrimage... But you can't breathe a word of this to Harrot."

That brought up her finely-honed investigative instincts. Shepard had had to unravel a lot of back-room politics during their mad dash across the galaxy to find Saren before it was too late. "Why? What's this about Harrot?"

"Well, you know how Pilgrimages go. My money was stolen within days of getting here, so I had to turn to something. Salvaging tech had been my hobby on the Vasta, so I tried to sell it. But Harrot's forcing me to sell high, so he can undercut me. I can't even afford a ticket off this rock."

Tali's heart went out to the poor boy. He must be desperate if he was asking for help from another quarian not on Pilgrimage. It was a sort of unwritten law that adult Quarians shouldn't help those on Pilgrimage, but this Kenn touched a chord in her. "How much do you need to get off Omega?"

He seemed surprised into answering. "I still need a thousand credits to pay my way, but you know you're not supposed to help me on Pilgrimage..."

She nodded, idly browsing his wares, and making a mental note to show the specs for this shotgun upgrade to Shepard. "Why does Harrot control your prices?"

"Harrot made me swear not to undercut him, no matter what. He was here first, so... it s his right" he sighs and drops his head a little, "But, no one will buy from me when he's so much cheaper. I can't even save enough money for a ticket off this station."

"Maybe not, but I think I could get Harrot to ease up on his restrictions.

He perked up visibly at that idea. "I won't stop you. If you can convince him to lay off, maybe I'll get off this station after all. His shop's up the ramp."

Tali cut him off with a raised hand, a touch of amusement in her voice as she told him she knew the elcor. Kenn turned back to his salvage as she slipped quietly back up the ramp to the elcor's rather luxurious (by omega's shops standards) corner space.

The big being turned back to the counter as she approached. "Tentatively Excited: Welcome, quarian, what can I get for you?"

Tali grinned behind her helmet. So far, only Shepard had been able to see through the darkened metaplastic of her envirosuit's faceplate. "Tell me about the deal with the quarian over there."

The elcor shifted slightly, "Suspicious: If I had made such a deal, I would certainly not be inclined to discuss it. Accusatory: I don't understand how it is any concern of yours."

This was the part Tali loved, mostly because it was so rare. "What if you and I make a deal? You let him set his own prices, and I won't break your legs." She tapped the butt of the shotgun holstered at the small of her back for emphasis. The battle-scarred weapon had drawn looks from nearly every passerby, and Harrot hadn't been unusual in that regard.

"With barely-contained terror: You drive a hard bargain."

"I haven't even started." Her slow stroking of the butt of her shotgun was clearly freaking the elcor out.

"Resignation: Very well. I will release the quarian from his promise. Conciliatory: To show there is no ill will, I offer you a discount on my own wares."

Tali at once took advantage of the offer to pick over Harrot's goods, some of which held quite a bit of promise. She positively swaggered down the ramp to inform the kid of his freedom to set his own prices, and he was overjoyed enough to give her a discount on his own wares. She politely refused, chuckling softly as she picked out a few things that could be useful.

* * *

><p>Virmire was an almost totally unmitigated disaster. True, they did destroy Saren's krogan breeding farm, but they lost Kaidan to the nuke that blew the whole place to kingdom come. Even so, they did manage to save almost all of Kirahe's crew, and Ashley. Nonetheless, Tali had kept to herself for a few days afterward, still in shock over loosing the human male. While she hadn't exactly grown close to Kaidan, she had gained a bit of rapport with him. He, Garrus and she shared an affinity with electronics, and would each help out in their own way when something went wrong on board the Normandy. While that didn't happen too often, there was the one time when the secondary starboard power couplings blew and almost overloaded the drive core with the discharge. It took all three of them along with most of the engineering crew to keep the core from discharging until Joker had dropped them into a thick magnetic field. After that she had grown to regard the soft-spoken human with real respect, despite his somewhat skimpy knowledge of mechanics. Kaidan might have lacked experience in hydraulic systems, but he made up for it with an almost intuitive genius when it came to programming, almost on par with she herself. Keelah, how she missed him...<p>

* * *

><p>Tali was startled out of her reverie by the soft beep of her commlink. She touched the side of her helmet, "Yes, Shepard?"<p>

"We got a lead on this salarian doctor. Unfortunately, he's inside a plague zone, but happily we have a couple guys along who don't care about nasty germs." The tone of Shepard's voice sent a shiver up the quarian's spine. She'd heard that tone countless times during briefings, usually just before they dropped into hostile territory and started getting shot at.

"Alright, where should I meet you?"

"At the southern airlock. Had to convince a guard to let us through, be he'll watch for a quarian with a big-ass shotgun."

Tali couldn't help but snicker. "See you there, Shepard."

"You want me to go into a plague zone? Are you insane?" Tali stared at Shepard thunderstruck.

"Well, with your envirosuit, you'd be ideal." Shepard's piloting had always been fairly good, though she absolutely loathed having to drive a land vehicle. Many times she let Tali take the controls of the Mako.

"If it gets punctured, I'm dead, Shepard!"

"Relax, I saw how tough that suit is, Tali. Impressive sheild array and ceramite composite weave all over. If something managed to punch through that, you'd have bigger problems than a few sniffles."

Shepard did have a point. This new suit of hers was a bit thicker, tougher, and included the best personal shield array her people had yet produced, one she had worked on herself, in fact. Still, Tali was very nervous about diseases of all sorts, and going into a plague zone was -not- her idea of fun.

She eyed the geth platform beside Shepard. When on Freedom's Progress, she had at first been skeptical, and frankly horrified that Shepard would be working with the geth, but once she had been talked down from pointing her shotgun at Legion's head, Shepard had persuaded her to at least give it a chance. It had taken quite a lot of doing, and Shepard had been forced to point out that when the Geth started to become sentient, the Quarians tried to kill them for things they -might- have done. And the geth's first reaction had been self defence. Like any frightened child, they had lashed out at those who were trying to harm them, and, given the excessively automated nature of the quarian military at that point, did so with terrifying effectiveness.

It had given Tali a lot to mull over, and by the time they had reached the geth base, she was willing to give them a chance to prove they weren't hostile anymore. So far, it had seemed to work, and it was pure joy to work with them on engineering problems. They could see many tiny design flaws in things, but they couldn't innovate. They could improve an existing design, but creating an entirely new one was beyond the scope of their programming. While that had both negative and positive aspects, she could also understand why the Geth had sought out her people's assistance this time around. They had about reached the limit of what they could do, and were trying to take the next step in sentient evolution. But -needed- her people to help them over that hurdle.

In all, it gave her something of a buzz, realizing that she was the first Quarian the geth had interacted peacefully with in over three centuries.

* * *

><p>Shepard brought the aircar in for a smooth, gentle landing. "Alright people, end of the line. Let's find ourselves a doc."<p>

Tali slid gracefully from the aircar, after Legion had exited, and checked the load on her shotgun. If this was like any of the other missions she and Shepard had had together, this was going to be fun.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

My most humble apologies for the very long lull, but, well, Inspiration is getting harder and harder to come by. I hope like hell not to keep you people waiting this long next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Shepard ducked behind a crate, bullets whizzing over her head. Her first recruitment mission had quickly degraded to another fast-paced firefight. Really, it was just another day in the life of the Galaxy's first human Spectre.<p>

Her thoughts zipped by at insane speeds, clipped, precise, coldly calculating, and yet strangely elegant. 'Target, 3-o'clock low. Eliminated. Target, 5-o'clock high. Eliminated.' A swift snap roll to the left to avoid incoming fire she hadn't been completely aware of. A flurry of pistol cracks to retaliate. Roll. Dive. Come up against hard cover. Slip out, aim and fire. Duck back. Pop overloaded heat sinks. Reload. Leap up and dive for the next piece of cover. The dance of death was one she had much practice at. Her hands flashed from target to target, her pistols spitting death wherever she commanded, each shot precisely aimed for maximum effect. The twin pistols of her prior life had been lost when she reentered Alchera's frigid atmosphere, but these new heavy pistols did the job just as well, steady streams of pinpoint fire lancing from their barrels.

Fire. Ever since she could remember, Aurora Shepard's element had been fire. From getting into fights on old Earth in preschool to her bitter struggle with her arch-nemesis Patricia Klunz on Mindoir, she'd fought with fire all her life. The sight of her friends, family, and even enemies subjected to the horrors of the Batarian slave raid had snapped something inside her, some cap to a deep reservoir of volcanic rage, and ignited her even further. She didn't actually remember much after seeing her sister's head blown off by batarian rifles, but according to the men who rescued her, she had killed one batarian before he had noticed she was there, then slaughtered the other five in his group with his own pistol.

That fire had driven her into the military, partly to take advantage of that deep-seated rage, partly to learn to control it. Military discipline had indeed done that last part, oh yes. But part of what had made her such a damn fine spec-ops commando had been that battle fire simmering beneath her cold, controlled exterior. She wasn't quite a berserker, but she came as damn close as you could while still able to pull out of the bloodlust.

A sudden burst of enemy fire forced her behind cover, just in time for Aurora Shepard to notice the bright red warning label on the crate before her.

'Shit!'

The blast of the explosives-stuffed crate she had taken refuge behind threw her hurtling backwards past Tali and Legion to slam spine-first into the wall. She was up before she hit the ground, the impact hardly dazing her.

* * *

><p>Tali winced as the blast sent Shepard flying. Unfortunately she didn't have time to do more than scream her friend's name before two more turians came charging after her. She popped out of cover and unloaded a full clip into the nearest one, backpedaling to keep out of melee range. Her shields were good, but they wouldn t stop a bayonet. That's when fire lashed out from behind her, so rapid that it could have been mistaken for full-auto, and the charging turian started to skitter sideways, seeking cover just as his shields went down. Tali hefted her now-reloaded shotgun to take his head off, when a final shot rang out and the turian's jaw exploded in a shower of exoskelletal fragments and blue-black blood. He stared wide-eyed over Tali's shoulder, then fell to the floor.<p>

The quarian dropped back into cover and risked a look over her shoulder. Shepard was stalking forward, her body moving slower than usual, but her pistols cracking almost constantly, minute shifts of position actually blurring their edges slightly as her friend stalked past her. 'Just how good are her heat sinks?' Tali mused, racking the slide on her shotgun to reset the recalcitrant heat sink in her own gun. Finally, the guns clicked empty, but Shepard ejected on the fly, slapped her guns to her hips, and was almost instantly firing again. 'So that's why she keeps her clips on loops like that. Good idea.'

* * *

><p>'Target. Eliminated. Target. Eliminated. Target. Eliminated.' Over and over, Shepard fired; each shot aimed with care and precision, but at a rate of speed that would have given her old target practice instructors the screaming meemies. 'Target. Eliminated.' That was the last one. Her gun barrels actually steamed slightly as she ceased her barrage. She held them ready, ready to resume fire if necessary, but her advanced sensor array and HUD display indicated that that was the last Blue Sun for a while. The clinic was just down the corridor and to the left. She turned, saw Legion getting out of cover and reloading its wide-bore sniper rifle, and looked for Tali. She spotted her crouched beside a pillar and staring. Shepard whipped around, guns raised, ready to fire. But there was no one there. That's when she realized how utterly inhuman she might have seemed. 'Shit, I didn't want to scare Tali...'<p>

She gave a soft sigh and holstered her guns, the magnetic clamps locking them to her hips, just below the row of heat sinks slung above them. "Tali..."

* * *

><p>Tali shook her head once to clear it. "Y-yeah, sorry Shepard." She got to her feet, slowly, trying to wrap her head around the concept of how fast Shepard could move. She'd seen Shepard charge that YMIR mech back on Freedom's Progress, but this was her first chance to really watch Shepard fight. 'Keelah, she's faster than anyone I've ever heard of!'<p>

Shepard nodded a little, waiting for the rest of her crew, "I promise, Tali, I'll explain everything once we get back to the Zero Eight. It's..." she sighed. "It s a long story."

Tali nodded. "I figured. Just make sure not to leave out any details, OK, Shepard?"

Her old friend grinned through her faceplate, her face shifting from ice-blue to a more normal pink tone as she engaged her color filters, "knowing you, I wouldn't dare!"

Tali had to bite her lip to keep back a giggle.

* * *

><p>The dark-suited figure perched between an angle of the wall and a pipe that ran into the ceiling, one foot planted on each and gripping a stanchion it had driven into the deteriorating surface.<p>

It had moved unnoticed so far, keeping to shadows where it's dark matte-grey suit blended in perfectly while using acrobatic leaps to stay high and out of sight as it trailed its quarry. When the subjects of its pursuit entered a corridor, the lithe silhouette dropped to the floor soundlessly behind them, waiting for its three targets to move out of sight before following quickly in their wake.

Now, it watched patiently as the gleaming-armored soldier and it's pet geth gathered up the third member of their party. 'How did Tali fall for such tricks' fluttered through the figure's mind, 'she knows Shepard as well as I do. She couldn't have been so blind as to be taken in by this charlatan!'

But, Tali was smart. Moving precipitously would possibly put her in danger, if she had indeed been hoodwinked by this imposter. 'I must make certain to strike when Tali isn't in a position to assist.'

The trio was moving off now, into the hallway leading to the clinic. That was good. It would give the ill-intending figure a chance to get ahead of them. The shadow released the clamp holding the staple to the ceiling, dropped forward until only it's bracing legs against wall and pipe held it up, then let go. A blue biotic field blossomed into existence beneath it and the figure dropped into a cushion of buoyant air, landing soundlessly and sprinting through a side passage.

* * *

><p>Mordin was working furiously on the console when the small group arrived. He glanced up sharply, taking in the details with rapid, trained glances. The center one, physique recognizable as that of a human female, spoke first. "Doctor Solus?" it questioned.<p>

Stepping closer, he scanned the group, finding no trace of infection. "Human, curious. Don't recognize you from area. To well armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else? Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague! Investigating possible use as bioweapon! No, no, no. Too many guns, not enough data-gathering equipment. Soldiers. Not Scientists. Yes, yes. Hired guns. Looking for someone? Yes, yes-"

The human, who's lips had quirked up higher and higher as he worked through the logic tree held up her hands, palms out. "Relax Mordin. I'm Spectre Shepard, and I came here to find you. I'm on a critical mission and I need your help."

That statement made him start. Shepard? Announced deceased some time ago. No matter. Have no time for mission regardless of identity. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Suddenly, the salarian halted, a question worming its way into his mind. Who sent you?" He ducked down to examine his stocks of supplies, searching for the reagent to test the latest cure derivation.

"I m here on my own accord, the supposed spectre claimed, for two reasons. First, I'm probably going to need your help on an important mission to come, and second, I need a complete physical workup done by someone I can trust. You were trained by the best, were at the top of your field, and I need some answers."

Mordin popped up again, and was somewhat startled by the change in the human's face, through the faceplate of her helmet. It had gone from the traditional pink tones of a Caucasian human, to a blue more resembling that of an asari than a human, save a human suffering from extreme frostbite. Instantly his omnitool was scanning, scanning, but unable to penetrate the armor. The human raised a hand, gently waving it away. "It's not life-threatening, at least not in the immediate future. But I want an unbiased opinion, and your name came up as someone both with the biochemical training, and who knows the value of discretion."

For a moment, Mordin was speechless. Then he found his voice again, "Skin tone a symptom? Other reactions? Biochemistry alterations on this scale never before seen. Could revolutionize medical fields, could simply be anomaly. Yes, will help, but clinic understaffed. Must stay here."

The quarian who had been leaning against the wall spoke up. "This mission is bigger than you can guess, Doctor. Hundreds of billions of lives are at stake. We'll need your help when we go after the Collectors."

Mordin blinked rapidly. "Population of galaxy at large only statistic similar in scope. A threat to entire galaxy? Intriguing. Collectors? Interesting. Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar." He turned to his console again. "But, must stop plague first. Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them."

Shepard, he was now certain that she was, in fact, the first human spectre, nodded slightly. "I'll get in and deal with the vorcha." Just then, the almost subliminal hum of the air recycling system began to shut down; it's tone descending the range of human hearing.

The quarian's head shot up, evidently listening. "That sounded like a failing air filter."

Mordin's scanner was already out, checking on the conduits, and it quickly confirmed the quarians diagnosis. "Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Need to get power back on before district suffocates. Here, take plague cure," he slapped the now-completed canister into Shepard's hand, "One more thing. Daniel. One of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory looking for victims. Hasn't come back."

Shepard gave a curt nod. "I'll find him."

"Thank you. Told him not to go. He's smart, bright future. I hope."

She nodded again. "What can you tell me about this plague?"

"Hmm, advanced design. Suspected Collectors before you mentioned them. Purpose is experimental. Destroys respiratory system with harmful genetic mutations. Makes sense to avoid humans. Unnecessary to force mutations on human genetic structure for sake of variance."

She blinked, glanced at Tali, who shrugged helplessly. "Unnecessary mutations? What are you talking about?"

"Possible goal of virus. Testing viable mutation levels in various species. Horrific, but feasible for Collectors. Humans known to have diverse genetic background. Wider range than other sapient races. Makes sense to use as control group."

Shepard nodded, turned a little, shaking her head as if to clear it. "We'll talk later Mordin. Best to get this cure in place before we all start to suffocate." The tiny hint of doubt in her voice was noted, but cause unknown.

The quarian nodded and turned to go. Mordin's eyes widened as he spotted what looked like a geth platform following the quarian. 'Possible reconciliation between Quarians and Geth? Intriguing. Also, potentially politically destabilizing. Should acquire more data. But first, must return to distributing cure. Patients cannot wait.'

* * *

><p>Shepard smiled as the giant fans of the air processing facility whined back into action. Dodging rockets was not her idea of fun, but at least they were easier to dodge than bullets. And when the acrobatics were over and done with, the technical aspect of the mission went off without a hitch. Tali was a wonder. She had the facility up and running again in seconds once they had cleared a path to the console from the door. One Vorcha had tried to talk to her, but before it had done more than confirm that yes, the Collectors were behind the plague, Shepard had put two shots into it's eyes. Even a Vorcha has difficulty regenerating a leaky skull.<p>

Of course, once the krogan made their appearance, the combat became a bit more difficult. The fights were tough and brutal, the krogan s natural resiliency allowing them to shrug off bullets like mosquito bites. Tali's close-range shotgun and tech skills along with Legion s ludicrously powerful widow sniper rifle kept the threats manageable however. As it turned out, an anti-tank round through the eye proved too much for even a krogan to endure, and when said krogan was already twitching from an overload pulse well even the mighty Blood Pack mercenaries had proven unable to stave off their assault.

They had also encountered Mordin s assistant along their route, the poor man surrounded by a trio of trigger-happy batarians. Fortunately, Tali had risen to the challenge, talking the three down without bloodshed. The once shy and timid girl was turning into a most remarkable woman in Shepard's eyes, aware of both the intricacies of mechanical operation and social tightwires. Their retrieval of Daniel had been the last thing to pry the Salarian doctor out of his medical hole, now that the cure had been dispersed, and the clinic was ticking along under Daniel's guidance, the salarian doctor holding true to his word and returning with them to the Zero-Eight.

Of course, Mordin had been quite the chatterbox ever since he had slipped out of his clinic and came back with them towards the ship, running his mouth nonstop to Shepard, Tali, even Legion once he adapted to the Geth's laconic phrasing. Shepard heaved a sigh. It was going to be a long, long time before she got used to Mordin on the team.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: My profound apologies for not getting this out sooner, my dratted muse keeps going on benders and winding up in the drunk tank. The next chapter should be quicker!


	7. Chapter 7

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>When they entered the Zero-Eight Tali could hold it in anymore. Every since she had seen Shepard fight with that new speed, her guns a blur, she knew there was something that Shepard hadn't been telling her. Shepard promised to explain, but... Keelah, it was maddening.<p>

She wasn't sure what to expect, Legion had not answered any of her questions, and she knew why. It troubled her and made her curious at the same time, a geth that knew, on an emotional level, that it wasn't his place to tell.

Then Mordin, with his strange way of talking, had summed up a few things that left Tali's mind reeling. Biochemical alterations? Skin tone? Anomaly? What exactly was it that happened to Shepard, and what had she shown Mordin to get such a reaction?

She cursed the fact that she had been standing behind Shepard, unable to see the woman's face when she and Mordin talked.

"Shepard..." she said, fumbling with her hands when the woman turned to her, a questioning look on her face.

Shepard frowned, she knew what this was about, and she didn't like putting Tali in this position. She motioned the quarian to follow her, and walked away from Mordin and Legion. The latter explaining the ship's layout to the salarian, who was looking around with interest on his face, rambling about everything he saw.

She went to the engine room, knowing that Tali would feel most comfortable there, then turned toward the nervous quarian.

"I don't know exactly what happened, Mordin is here for that, but-" she paused, hesitating, "just don't be scared."

Tali nodded in confirmation, fighting the butterflies in her stomach. Shepard then dropped the filtration layer of her faceplate, her skin tone paling as Tali's eyes grew.

"Keelah..." was all she could say, frozen in place when she saw Shepard's white hair, the blue skin. But the eyes hit her the most, they... glowed. And when she looked into them she could see... She wasn't sure what she saw, but it awed her and scared her at the same time.

She reached out, but stopped herself just before touching Shepard's face, who had those glowing orbs fixed intently on hers. She was sure that Shepard could see her face, and she blushed. But behind the changes, she could still see her old Commander, and she knew that this was Shepard, the walking, breathing, living Shepard.

"What happened?" she asked, hoping for an explanation and also hoping to know what exactly had changed about the woman in front of her. And she got one. Oh boy, did she ever get one...

* * *

><p>Tali's mind reeled as Shepard related the numerous changes in her physiology. Fact and fact and fact and fact and no end in sight. If Tali wasn't sure this -was- her friend and that Shepard wouldn't joke about something this important, she would have been certain that someone was pulling her leg. I mean, come on, crystalline life forms? But Shepard had demonstrated her altered states to Tali, had actually had -lightning- arcing between her hands while Tali measured the amperage jumping across the half-meter space. Ideas had started roiling up in Tali's mind when Shepard had started with explaining how her suit worked, and the two of them spent about half an hour opening up inspection ports and examining the works, Shepard instructing and the young quarian soaking up the information like a sponge. That had been an hour ago, and now Tali was hesitant and shy as Shepard started gearing up again, clicking heat sink after heat sink into her armor's clip-magazines.<p>

"Shepard?"

She turned, arching an eyebrow at the quarian. She hadn't seen Tali for about two hours, and hadn't seen her this hesitant since the time she'd come to ask Shepard what certain human phrases she'd overheard in the engine room meant. "Yes, Tali?"

After a bit more hesitation, the young quarian offered Shepard a rather robust-looking pistol. It had a chrome finish, it's highly polished, brushed surface gleaming in the lights of the Zero-Eight. "Um, could you test this for me?" She ducked her head in the way that Shepard had come to take as a quarian blush, "I'd like to test it's effectiveness."

She flipped the pistol over, showing a metallic contact where the pistol's trigger should have been, and another in the palm-side of the grip, "These here are the input and output contacts for an electric charge. I thought that with your abilities, well, it'd be a good idea if only you could fire your guns.."

Shepard smiled, "That's thoughtful of you, Tali. How much power should I put into this thing?"

"Mmmm, about ten thousand amps. You can do that, right?" she ducked her head again in that adorable 'blush' gesture again.

Shepard blinked, "That's a lot, but yes, I could. Continuous?"

"Oh! No, not continuous. When you want to fire it, just zap it with at least ten thousand amps, and it'll fire."

Shepard shrugged again, taking the pistol and hefting it. It was heavier than the Carnifex she had on her hip, maybe a quarter again it's weight. "Got a place to test it?"

The quarian nodded and gestured to the solid block of metal that had been a piece of bulkhead. "Give it a shot!" As Shepard turned and aimed, she slid back around behind the Spectre, watching intently.

-BOOM!-

Shepard's head snapped back in surprise as the pistol snapped up sharply. She hadn't been expecting -that- much recoil, nor the thunderclap of an -extremely- high velocity round. "What the hell -is- this thing, Tali?"

The quarian was almost giddy with delight. "It's a railgun, Shepard! I based it off the old designs still floating around the extranet. It uses electrical propulsion to accelerate a conductive slug down the length of two rails. The acceleration is more linear than that of the standard coilgun setup, and you get higher acceleration boost for a given barrel length extension with a railgun than a coilgun, and it's more energy efficient! More, the more energy you put into it, the faster the slug is going when it passes the muzzle!"

Shepard blinked at Tali's enthusiasm, then back to the rather large hole in the metal plate. Thinking, she unlimbered the Carnifex on her other hip, and shot the piece of bulkhead with her standard pistol.

-CRACK!-

Tali jumped slightly, but was grinning visibly within her helmet as Shepard knelt to examine the two holes. The first one was blown entirely through the plate, though the ragged edges at the exit hole showed that the slug's momentum was almost entirely spent by that point. The Carnifex's shot had only made a crater in the plate, however. "Tali."

The quarian stilled, trying to keep from wriggling in her delight, "Yes, Shepard?"

The Spectre turned, grinning fit to split, "Make me another one." She stood and swept the smaller quarian into a tight hug, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Tali froze for an instant, her luminescent eyes growing wide before narrowing again as she smiled beneath her faceplate, hugging Shepard back. "I'll get right on it!"

* * *

><p>The batarian outside the door in the Blue Suns uniform pretty much highlighted where she needed to go. Shepard stepped up to him, Legion walking stiffly behind her with Tali beside it. They'd had a few problems with Legion, but fewer than Shepard would expect to have on a more civilized world. On Omega, people kept mostly to themselves, and if they saw a heavily armed and armored woman walking around with a geth on a leash, they knew to keep their distance. The guard stood more erect as Shepard approached, eying her with all four of -those- eyes.<p>

Shepard ground her teeth slightly. She hated batarians for what they did to her family on Mindoir, but she had had self-discipline pounded into her in boot camp, and again for spec-ops training, so she knew how to handle her hatred. "I hear you're recruiting."

The batarian nodded slightly, "Just inside." The door slid open, revealing another man in armor talking with the Blue Suns recruiter inside. Shepard nodded and slipped inside, Legion clanking after her with Tali close behind.

The armored human nodded at the recruiter's last words, "You'll get paid when the job's done, just like everyone else." The recruiter looked up as the man exited, giving Legion a wide berth. "Who's next?"

Shepard presented herself with a swift gesture to Tali and Legion. "Me and my crew."

She found her left hand tightening into a fist as the batarian eyed her form-hugging armor. "Well, aren't you sweet. You're in the wrong place, honey. Stripper's quarters are that way." He gestured back out the door.

That was it. Her hand dropped to her new gun, drawing it with fluid grace, "Show me yours, tough guy. I bet mine's bigger."

One of his brow ridges rose slightly, "Impressive. So you're here to fight, then?"

"Yup."

He bent to his console, "Standard fee is 500 credits each. You get paid when the job's done. If you die, your friends don't get to collect your share. You'll need your own weapons and armor, looks like you got that covered," he glanced at Shepard's matte-black with silver trim cryoplate armor, Shepard's lips slightly twitching up at the corner, "And no, this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or the Blood Pack. You are a freelancer. Period. Any questions?"

"Yeah, a few. Where's the show?" 'And how do we get there?' Shepard thought.

"Archangel's base of operations. Turian bastard's been hiding out right under our noses. I can't tell you exactly where it is, but our cab will get you there."

Shepard nodded, "What do we do once we get there? How do we get to Archangel?"

"The mercs will tell you when you get there. Last I heard, they were putting the freelancers into scouting groups; they attack in waves to distract Archangel while we try to get past his defenses."

Now that didn't sound ominous. No, not at all. "So we're just fodder for his bullets?"

The batarian shrugged, "If you don't like it, don't sign up. But if you do your job right, it's easy credits. Besides, what are the odds he can kill -all- of you?"

Shepard nodded, glancing at Tali. "Where do we go?"

The batarian gestured back through the door, "Just head over to the transport depot outside the club and identify yourself to the Blue Suns merc there. He'll get you squared away." He bent to his console again, "Send in the next one."

As Shepard turned away, Legion and Tali exited, a young kid entered, barely missing running into them. Shepard had to suppress a grin, the kid was almost painfully young. No armor to speak of, just heavy street clothes, and an antiquated pistol, probably predating the upgrade to ejectable heatsinks. "Hey, is this where I sign up?" the kid asked.

A slight frown touched Shepard's lips. A kid that young shouldn't be going into a meat grinder like this. "You look a little young to be freelancing as a merc."

The kid was indignant, "I'm old enough! I grew up on Omega, I know how to use a gun."

Tali chirped up, "So does Archangel."

The kid was nearly shouting now, "I can handle myself!" He drew his old pistol. "Besides, I just spent fifty credits on this pistol, and I wanna use it!"

Enough was enough. Shepard's hand shot out, knocking the kid back a step. She grabbed the gun, twisted sharply, and tore it from his grasp. He cried out, mostly of indignation, but Shepard just gave him a quelling look. "Get your money back."

She checked the setting, made sure the safety was on, and tapped the side to check the heatsink. 'Yup. Piece of crap.' Old, worn out, definitely needing replacement. She slid one of her own high-density heatsinks into the slot for the old one, thankful the old gun could still accept the new heatsink. "Trust me kid, you'll thank me later."

She spun the gun around and offered it to him, butt first. She turned away without another backward look as the kid took it, and missed his solemn, doubtful look.

* * *

><p>The aircar settled to the ground with a soft sigh, the doors cracking open and the turian stepping out, letting Shepard slide out of the passenger's seat as Tali and Legion slid from the back. Shepard rolled her head a little, thankful the tense and too-quiet ride was over, glancing about and nodding to the turian as he gestured her up the short flight of stairs towards a Batarian in Blue Suns armor trotting down to meet them.<p>

"It's about time they sent me someone who looks like they can actually fight. They tell you what we're up against?"

Shepard glanced over the Batarian and nodded, "Archangel's holed up in a building, you need us to distract him while you take him out."

The merc nodded, "The building's at the end of the boulevard over there." He gestured back up the stairs he came down. "He's got superior position, and the only way in is over a very exposed bridge." He sighs, "It's a killing ground. But he's getting tired, making mistakes. We'll have him soon enough."

Shepard gritted her teeth slightly, but nodded. "What's the plan?"

The batarian nodded slightly, "You'll be on a distraction team. Head straight over the bridge and keep Archangel busy so the infiltration team can sneak in behind him."

Legion spoke up, "Probability of survival for distraction team members low."

The batarian glanced at the geth, "Pretty much, but you look like you can handle it." He turned back to Shepard, "Head up to the boulevard and get to the third barricade. Talk to Sergeant Cathka. He'll tell you when to go in."

Shepard nodded, "I'd better go find this Sergeant Cathka."

The batarian nodded, raising a hand warningly, "Watch yourself on the boulevard. Archangel's killed dozens out there already." He moved away to talk to another group getting out of another aircar.

Tali touched Shepard s elbow, murmuring quietly as her commander turned, "Getting in sounds easy enough. I'm more worried about the return trip."

Shepard smiled at the quarian, "Let's find him first. We'll figure out how to get back later."

Tali nodded, and as Shepard moved up the stairs, both she and the geth followed.

* * *

><p>Crossing the open boulevard was like being a duck in a shooting gallery. She didn't know who this Archangel was, but he was obviously damn good to have managed to piss off all three of the major Terminus System merc groups. Every so often, up the open length of the boulevard, there was a barricade of sorts, with various kinds of mercs stationed there, taking potshots and being pot-shotted in turn. Shepard slipped past and opened a door leading along the length of the boulevard. At Legion's slightly raised brow plate and tilted flashlight-head, she murmured to him, "Better to take a route that puts us in the line of fire least often, no?" The geth platform nodded instantly, understanding the tactical situation.<p>

Inside this room was a group of Eclipse mercs, a salaran captain sounding rather peeved with something talking to his lieutenants, to judge by the way the other mercs were listening to him. He was saying something about who the infiltration team will try to take Archangel by surprise as the first wave of freelancers rushes over the bridge. Shepard shook her head, moving past the salarian without comment, but noticing a pad by the far door.

Glancing at it, she was glad her back was turned. It was a message from Jaroth, presumably the salarian here, to someone called Tarak. Apparently, they got Garm on board, and all three of their groups are going after Aria after they take out Archangel. Shepard frowned slightly. As much as she detested the Queen of Omega, she -did- tend to stabilize the place. She quickly scanned the message into her omnitool and moved on.

There was a short corridor past the door, with two doors leading off it. Out of curiosity, Tali opened the one to the side, and jerked back in surprise as she got a good look at the heavy mech hulking silently in there. As Shepard strode forward, she quickly sent Chittikka to tinker with it's IF/F code, turning to follow Shepard, confident that her drone would catch up.

Another corridor lead to another door, and behind this one was a large group of vorcha and krogan. The krogan seem to be watching the vorcha squabble over something, seeming amused by the scrawny creatures' antics. Giving a respectful nod to the battle-scarred, hulking beast that seems in charge, she stepped through the other door and into the boulevard again. This time, just as she crossed the open space, a vorcha toppled backward with half it's head blown apart. She paused, waiting for the vorcha's corpse to stop spasming, then stepped over it to the other side of the boulevard. She walked up the side, hidden from the sniper's view by an overhang and building wall.

The small space over here was almost swarming with freelancers, since it was out of the fire-zone. She spotted one leaning against a pillar that seemed to have actual armor and not just a 'bad-ass suit'. She stepped over, keeping out of the sniper's view as the idiot vorcha exchanged assault rifle fire with Archangel's deadly-accurate sniper fire. "I'm looking for Sergeant Cathka."

The merc, human and plainly nervous, nodded across the boulevard. "You and me both, lady. He's over there, working on the gunship," he turns back to her, "We go over the bridge when he gives the word. Go talk to him if you want, I'm in no hurry."

Shepard nodded, glancing over her shoulder at Tali, who nodded back. Waiting for a break in the gunfire, she slipped over to where the gunship was parked on the far side of the boulevard, a group of blue suns mercs baring her way. "Cathka?" she asked, and was motioned around behind the gunship as the 'honor guard' stepped out of the way.

Cathka turned out to be another damned batarian, and it was all Shepard could do to rein in her impulse to flatten the bastard against the gunship and fry them both. He set aside his hand held arc-welder and reset his helmet's visor's visibility before turning to her. "Ah, you must be the group Salkie mentioned. You're just in time."

Shepard quirked an eyebrow, "Salkie?"

He gestured back the way she came, "You met him when you were dropped off. He radioed to say you were coming. You three kinda stand out from most of the other freelancers. Anyway. The infiltration team is about to give us the signal. Archangel won't know what hit him." As he spoke, he turned towards a command post set up next to the gunship. "Got any questions? This may be your last chance." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. Shepard was so very very glad she didn't need to breathe anymore, not that her suit's air scrubbers wouldn't have filtered out the second-hand smoke.

She tilted her head up, "You gonna give us cover with the gunship?"

Cathka snorted, "Tarak is the only one who flies her. Besides, she's not quite ready. That bastard Archangel gave her a beating last time she was out there. A few more tweaks and she'll be as good as new."

Shepard nodded, ignoring the cloud of smoke the batarian bastard was generating, "Are you leading the assault?"

He laughs again, "Tarak doesn't pay me to fight. He pays me to plan the attacks and fix the gunship. You freelancers get the privilege of -"

He was cut off by a squawk from his command console, "Target is in sight. We're a go."

He crouched over his console, speaking into the pickup, "Check. Bravo team - go, go, go."

Several freelancers moved towards the barricade separating the enclosed portion of the boulevard from the bridge, getting ready to rush the target. Cathka pushed back from the console, chuckling, "Archangel's got quite a surprise waiting for him."

He tapped his helmet, re-polarizing his visor, picking up his arc-welder, and turning back to the gunship. "But that means no more waiting for me. Gotta get her back to a hundred percent before Tarak decides he needs her again."

After only a brief hesitation, Shepard moved forward, stepping beside Cathka. "You're working too hard." She gripped his shoulder, "Let me take care of it."

Cathka didn't have a chance to cry out before enough electricity to power the gunship for a few hours spiked through his armor, his meat, his heart, and down through his blood and out his armored boot. What hit the deck when Shepard let go a few seconds later was nothing but a charred corpse. Tali winced beneath her helmet and followed Shepard over to the barricade, where most of the freelancers had already hopped over the wall and were firing a very mixed assortment of firearms at the mostly-hidden sniper.

Dropping down behind most of the freelancers, Legion commented, "Archangel's odds seem poor."

Tali dropped just behind him. "Then we'd better make sure this group doesn't make it in."

Shepard just smiled. "C'mon, let's give these guys a surprise of our own."

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

My most profound apologies for not getting this chapter out sooner. First my Muse apparently went into witless protection, then my betas seemed to go AWOL too. This chapter is only partially beta'd, so if you spot something screwy, it's my fault, not theirs.

I hope to have the next chapter up -much- sooner, and finish off this particular mission, but after that, I'm thinking I'll head into uncharted territory, and see where the story wants to go.

Once again, my most humble apologies, and I hope like hell it doesn't take another few months to get the next chapter out.


	8. Chapter 8

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Thunder screamed. Tali screamed within it. Struggling to stabilize her patient, Legion's calm voice inquiring how it could be of assistance, focusing entirely on stopping the blood. So much blood! She's trying <em>not<em> to think who this is, what he means to her, what he meant to her, to them all. She's trying to stay on task, stop the bleeding, keep him conscious, forcing the medigel down his throat if she had to, to keep him from slipping from her grasp. Keelah, she's trying so hard...

The sounds of thunder echoed and ricocheted around the room, the shattered glass shattering again under the deafening onslaught, its faint tinkle lost in the maelstrom of noise.

"Hold on, Garrus, just hold on!"

* * *

><p>{Earlier}<p>

Shepard's hands were fast, damn fast. She'd honed her razor edge of reflex until she could shatter seconds with gunfire. Even before her transformation, she'd been clocked at just a shave under three hundredths of a second for draw-aim-fire-holster, and that with an ancient relic that didn't fold away when it wasn't in use. Fixed-barrel weapons were old, but still serviceable when needs be, and she could still hit the right wing off a fly in mid-flight.

Now, her hands were blindingly fast, snatching at the cold butts of her new guns and ripping them from the magclamps on her thighs with inhuman speed. Her fingers were still wrapping into place before she had them pointed at the nearest freelancers, and the sudden bass thunder of them, small little bolts of electricity tasting the air as the slugs left them, ripped new holes in the tattered silence. Seventeen shots were fired in two seconds; a blistering tempo if there ever was one, and the human firebird snapped a fresh clip into the cooling port in her left gun, still firing with the right. More gunfire joined the symphony, heavy, slow bass provided by Legion, and a throaty roar offered by Tali's rebuilt shotgun, spewing clouds of whirling slivers to chew through shields in heartbeats.

Startled by the unexpected assault, the mercs started to turn. Shepard's eyes were all-seeing, spotting the looks of shock forming on their faces as they turned, the thunder of her guns smashing through shield, armor, flesh and bone with terrifying ease. The screams of the wounded briefly drowned out all else, for each and every bullet had taken out either an elbow or a knee. What was the point of being that bloody good, if you couldn't use it to save some life in a hellhole like this?

* * *

><p>Tali worked the pump rapidly on her new, larger shotgun. Legion and the Geth had helped her with a few refinements to recoil-based reloading mechanisms that the Geth had been working on over the past few decades. They had started off with the recoil-based systems used back when chemical explosions were the preferred methods of weapon propulsion in quarian society, using a bit of that explosion to ready the next bullet and charge for firing. They'd used something similar to help reload their rifles a trifle faster, but anything that got rounds downrange with as much accuracy faster was worth a look, even if it was geth designed. The new system broke off a segment of the crystalline-metal ammo block and pre-cracked the slug so that it'd explode into a shower of fine, spinning shards when fired, making it -extremely- effective at breaking shields and shredding unprotected flesh.<p>

She'd initially been horrified when Legion popped out of cover on Freedom s Progress, her shotgun pointed at the Geth's sensor cluster and about to pull the trigger when Shepard stepped between them. It had taken the once-more-living spectre several minutes of talking and actually physically restraining the quarian to keep Tali from killing the geth construct, but eventually Shepard had talked her down. She was still skeptical even when Legion took off with the two of them, heading to the advance base (and boy, had _that_ been a nasty shock!), but one thing stood out in her mind like a sine wave in static: The Geth Didn't Want Rannoch!

They'd been programmed originally to keep the planet clean and tidy, domestic servants and maintenance drones, given rudimentary AI to help them keep things tidy without being told how to go about it. The military applications had been realized instantly, of course, but that core programming was so basic to the Geth programming language that it was difficult to eradicate completely. So, after they had driven the Quarians off-world, the Geth had returned to their original duties, keeping the cities clean and well stocked, even if no quarians were there to eat the spoiling food, keeping the refresher units clean (hardly that difficult anymore, with no organics using it), and repairing the damage done in the Geth Insurrection.

And now, they wanted to give it _BACK_!

Tali had spent a good long time in shock when Legion had proposed such a trade: a backing down of the Quarian military force, at least towards the Geth, in return for their homeworld. Her father would freak, so would most of the admiralty board, but Admiral Koris would be a strutting peacock (she'd seen vids of the gorgeous birds from a Terran zoo once) over the coup. His apologist faction would be dancing in their ships when the news broke. She wondered what it would be like to stand on a planet she could call her own

A bullet whipped past her hood, notching the soft fabric, and Tali swore vehemently as she ducked behind cover. Her scream followed a splintered second later as her helmet faceplate suddenly crazed from the impact of a high-velocity round.

* * *

><p>Archangel stared through his scope, madibles slack, at the picture before him. He didn't know who the Quarian was, though the way she worked that shotgun of hers put him in mind of the imp who usually hung out in the engineering spaces back on the Normandy. Tali had been a perpetual thorn in the side of his image as a tough-minded no-nonsense soldier, and had actually had him laughing so hard at one point with her particularly amusing tales of misshaps on the Migrant fleet that he was forced to lean against the Abomination that was the Mako for support. The fact that she had a captured Geth platform in tow, and was using it to snipe her enemies pointed either to a truely remarkable change in the fortunes of the Migrant Fleet, or overwhelming luck on the side of the hooded Quarian.<p>

But what really had him staring through his scope like a rookie was the figure that was out in front of them. He knew her. _KNEW_ her. Past tense. She _had_ to be dead now, but here she was, dancing the old familiar dance that he and she had danced so often two years prior. Her stance, her easy grace, the almost acrobatic fighting style Everything about her triggered that indefinable sense that lets a warrior identify his comrandes in arms on an evershifting battlefield, and right now those senses were screaming at him. In a single glance, he knew that the human woman whirling through the confused and panicing mob of freelance mercs could be no one but Her.

It was only fitting that at that moment, his helmet's music system began to softly play a more recent tune: "No matter what scars you bear, whatever uniform you wear. You can fight like a krogan, or run like a zephyr, but you'll never get the better of Commander Shepard."

* * *

><p>Shepard's world slowed at the sound of Tali's scream. Her mind, already running a million miles a moment, switched into some sort of overdrive, and things slowed still more. Almost without thinking about it, she switched her suit's cryo system to max, the added cold increasing her physical speed as more of her body's neural structure transitioned to its superconducting state. Electrons flowed freely through her nerve waveguides, activating piezoelectric muscles with a speed unequaled by any organic race. Electricity was her lifeblood, and combat her element. Her eyes traced the battlefield, scanning for targets with almost mechanical precision, as her arms and legs danced a complicated whirlwind, always maintaining her center, but twisting, ducking, diving, spinning, flipping to the beat of war.<p>

Locating Tali s assailant was hardly difficult, and Shepard quickly zeroed in on the merc with the assault rifle. It had been a lucky shot, one the man couldn't have repeated if his life depended on it, which unfortunately for him, it did. Her arms swung, bringing to bear both guns. Electricity sparked from their muzzles as she sent arc after arc through them, partially-molten slugs screaming downrange from their maws and into the unfortunate mercenaries shields with trip-hammer force. A few seconds and several devastating rounds of amunition later and the man fell back, hacking blood from the round that had blew through his chest. Shepard then fell sideways, one arm dropping as another merc swung a slow, lazy fist at her. An armoured leg pistoned out, catching the man off-balance, just under the armpit. A sickening crunch and the man's suddenly-shocked expression told the tale of a dislocated or destroyed join. Then she spun, her other leg coming up and around with terrrifying speed, catching the back of his helmet and silencing his scream before it could begin as his neck shattered. She completed the cartwheel, bringing both guns up and blazing.

They. Had. Hurt. Her. Teammate.

Her eyes blazed with barely contained power and fury. They would _PAY_.

* * *

><p>'Step one: check suit integrity.' The voice of her old instructor cut through Tali's incipient panic. She fumbled at her left wrist for the omnitool readout and gave a huge sigh of relief. Despite her cracked faceplate, she hadn't lost suit containment, a miracle in itself. That round certainly had her name on it, but it didn't quite have the punch to reunite her with the ancestors.<p>

'Step two: initiate repairs' She didn't have a full clean-room in which to remove and replace her faceplate, so that was out. She was just damn lucky the metaglass hadn't shattered entirely. She fumbled for an emergency repair kit as she slithered behind cover, almost dumping the contents in her haste to find and apply the quickseal to her faceplate. It wouldn't do much for the integrity of the fractured metaglass, but it'd reduce the visibility problems a damaged faceplate would impose. The thick, oily paste was easy to smear on, and quickly seeped into the cracks, making them less visually jaring. Her in-helmet HUD was shot to hell, but at least she could still see.

Unfortunately, she'd left her shotgun where she'd fallen. Five meters out of cover with a fusilade of gunfire keeping it company. With the softest of curses, Tali braced herself and rolled out of cover, snatching up her shotgun and coming up in a crouch beside a crate, just as a merc broke and fled, trying to get back across the bridge. She didn't hesitate, putting three rounds into him at knee level. The tiny metallic splinters probably wouldn't cause any serious lasting damage to a hardsuited target, they lacked the mass and velocity to chew through armor, but it did put him out for the count with his shields down and his right leg badly chewed by the several dozen spinning splinters.

'I hope you were the one that shot me, bastard.'

* * *

><p>Archangel's rifle barked and another merc fell, a neat hole drilled through his helmet. While the target-rich environment was a pleasant change from the long-distance and sparse field he had before, he knew that with this number of mercs headed this way, it was only a matter of time before some of them made it past his field of fire and he was forced to retreat to his next line of defense. Among the screaming, shouting, crying, and other goings on down on the bridge, a very familiar shriek sounded. He knew the voice. His head snapped around to stare as the hooded quarian crawled behind a crate, fumbling at her waist.<p>

"Tali?" His mandibles parted wider, a Turian smile, his scope tracking her for a second.

"Nah, couldn't be." She returned to the Migrant Fleet shortly after Shepard was awarded the Nova with Clusters, the highest military commendation the Council offered, after the Battle of the Citadel. It had been a tearful parting on many sides, with Liara, Shepard, Ashley and Tali all spending a great amount of time together in the few days before she had to leave.

Movement caught his other eye, and he shifted the scope. His mandibles sagged slightly, watching the figure he knew was Shepard. "Spirits, she's FAST!"

She spun, kicked, cartwheeled, and fired her weapons with preternatural speed, no longer like a soldier on the battlefield, more like a goddess stalking her prey. The sight left him a little breathless. Then her open faceplate tilted up towards his nest. _That_ sight took his breath away entirely. It was indeed Shepard's face within that open metaglass enclosure, but she looked... 'Frozen. A bluish skin tone that wouldn't look too out of place on an asari, hair the color of driving snow, and eyes...

'By all the spirits, her _EYES_!' They glowed with an inner fire that had nothing to do with battle-lust. They held a leashed power that struck a primal cord deep within him. Turians had been a predator species for too long to have so quietly given up their instincts, and on more than a few occasions such instincts had kept him alive. Right now, every fiber of his being told him that the woman down there was an Apex Predator, one that wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he so much as breathed wrong. And _every_ merc down there had apparently breathed wrong, as her impossibly loud guns barked at a blinding tempo, tearing through shield, armor, flesh and bone, mowing them down like wheat to a scythe. He lost sight of her as she strode beneath his nest, and sat shivering slightly for a few seconds.

"Shepard, if that really is you, I hope you kicked the Devil's ass before you came back..."

* * *

><p><strong><em>BOOM!<em>**

The thunder of that monster gun in her hand was deafening in the enclosed space. The last merc fell, Shepard holstering her gun with insane speed, one hand gesturing towards the open balcony as she glanced over her shoulder in Tali's direction. Legion nodded and stalked off over there, as she nerved herself and took the left side of the stairs as Shepard took the right. The top was an open concourse around to another balcony, overlooking the bridge. Tali gripped her shotgun tighter as Shepard spun around the column, but it seemed that the last merc had indeed fallen before they got to the stairs. She stepped around behind Shepard as the former ('or is she still?') Spectre stalked cautiously down the corridor and into the larger lounge area that encompassed the overlook.

Shepard twisted around the last corner, noted the lone figure against the far wall, long-barreled rifle in hand, and lowered her guns a little. "Archangel?"

The figure raised a hand, taking one last shot at a straggler that had found cover and somehow survived the carnage. It turned, setting the gun down, and taking a seat on the edge of a planter before unsealing the helmet. Tali's eyes widened as the turian face came into view. a very familiar face indeed.

Garrus set his helmet down, sounding weary as he murmured back, "Shepard. I thought you were dead."

* * *

><p>Shepard's eyes widened in surprise, "Garrus! What the heck are <em>you<em> doing here?" Her lips spread in a wide smile, her arms flung wide as she stepped toward him. A number of minutia clicked home in that motion, little things about how he carried himself, how he sounded. 'He's tired. Bone tired. I wonder how long he's been awake, fighting this holding action...'

Her old turian friend's mandibles twitched slightly. "Good to see you too."

"I'm just surprised to see you!" She gave him a wry, half grin.

"You and me both. Still, it's good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

Shepard opened her mouth to reply when a distinct clanking whine came from the bridge. Garrus reacted sluggishly. 'He really is bone-tired. Exoskelleton. Whatever.' Shepard moved to the edge of the balcony, crouching and glancing swiftly over the edge. "Ahhh, fuck, not another of those heavy mechs..."

Tali slipped up next to her, Legion moving to the far end of the balcony from Garrus, to cover more of the bridge that the other sniper couldn't. "Eclipse markings?"

Shepard peeked again as the mech was set down, "Yeah."

Tali's snicker drew both Shepard's and Garrus's gaze, the turian's mandibles parting slightly in amusement. "Hacked it on our way here. Just wait."

* * *

><p>True to the quarian's word, when about fifty Eclipse mercs had fortified the far end of the bridge, the mech had finished running through it's startup sequence. It scanned the several armored forms around it for IFF signatures. Checking rapidly against it's "friendly" list, it couldn't find a single match, therefore it began prioritizing it's targets based on threat level. Heavy weapondry was targetd first, followed by biotics, then techs, and lesser threats as opportunity presented. Fully activating at last, it swiveled it's heavy upper torso, it's rocket launcher targeting a heavy weapons squad.<p>

The Eclipse never knew what hit them. Fire and thunder filled the opposite end of the bridge, the quartet up on the balcony watching with assorted glee, smugness, amusement, and interest. The mech was thorough, taking out the high threats almost before the Eclipse knew what was happening, suffering damage as it found itself in a ring of guns. Biotics were cut in half with streams of hypersonic splinters, or blown up by rocket fire. More and more Eclipse fell, though the mech suffered severe damage. Unfortunately for the Eclipse, someone got in a lucky few shots and blew the mech's sensor pod away.

The last act of the comedy of errors at the far end of the bridge, the mech dropped to it's knee-joints, and detonated it's power core in a vast pyrotechnic display that incinerated the remaining Eclipse at the far end. Legion's massive rifle barked once, and the lone surviving Eclipse merc didn't long outlive the mech.

Tali turned to Shepard, her luminous eyes narrowed slightly with her wide grin. Garrus piped up from behind Shepard, "And that, is why you never piss off a Quarian."

* * *

><p>A thunderous boom echoed up from the lower levels, the building rocking slightly and dust sifting from the ceiling. Shepard spun, guns in her hands before Garrus could even see her draw. "Legion, Tali, with me. Garrus, can you hold the fort up here for a while?"<p>

He nodded, "I've got it, Shepard." He shifted back to the rail, keeping an eye on the carnage on the far side, "Kick their asses, Shepard."

A soft chuckle as his former CO slipped out to deal with the intruders. He offered up a heartfelt prayer to the Spirits, thanking them for his duty, and for his continued life. And for returning the best commander he ever had from wherever she had been lurking. "I'll burn an offering at the next shrine I come across, by my name, I swear." He shifted his grip slightly, inhaled, held, and pulled the trigger. One less merc.

* * *

><p>Shepard motioned Tali right, and Legion left when they got to the lower-level garage. Parked aircars and hoverbikes and lift vans and assorted other conveyances were parked down here, making a sort of haphazard maze. At the far end, the twisted wreckage of a heavy-duty security barrier lay on the decking, still smoking slightly. Figures poured in, but at this angle and distance, they were impossible to make out. Shorter than herself, which wasn't saying much, but a few of them hulked larger, probably krogan.<p>

Shepard checked her loads and switched out the tungsten ammobloc for an incendiary. Krogan tend to get back up after being shot with armor-piercing rounds, but even they tend to go nuts when set on fire. The soft chak of the ammoblock reciever snapping home provoked a loud shrieking howl. Her head snapped up, and she spun to the side as a vorcha charged her. Her elbow smashed into the side of it's head, her ankle caught it's, and the idiot fell sideways, her other gun smashing the pitiful armor asside and igniting it's flesh. The screaming, writhing corpse rolled away as Shepard stalked forward, murmuring into her comm. "Tali, Legion. Blood Pack."

* * *

><p>Tali smashed the butt of her shotgun into a vorcha's face, reversed it quickly, and pulled the double trigger. The gun bucked and roared, and the top half of the vorcha's head vanished. She ducked back behind the van she had been using as cover as another vorcha sprayed liquid fire where she had been. The sudden base note of Legion's big gun momentarily silenced all other nose. There was a heartbeat of silence, then a full-throated roar that could only come from a krogan in bloodrage.<p>

Tali peeked out from behind the van even as she was fumbling new thermal clips into her shotgun. The krogan had cast asside it's gun as it charged, huge and massive and intimidating as all heck. She squealed and zipped back into cover, running around the other end of the van as the Krogan smashed into the one next to it. She spun as he struggled to reorient, find his target. Her gun whined up as she held down the trigger, and just as the Krogan found her, she let him have it.

If she hadn't been bracing the gun on her cover, it would have broken her shoulder. The solid slug, almost a tenth of an inch across, smashed the air asside, starting to glow visibly by the time it struck it's target, punched a hole through the hapless krogan's armor, and shattered into hundreds of sharp-edged shards.

The result was mincemeat being blown out the back of his armor. His primary heart entirely gone, secondary lacerated, most of his lungs torn to shreds, and his stomachs leaking digestive juices. He stood there in shock for a bit as Tali quickly ejected the spent clips, fumbling in new ones. He fell like a tree toppling, slamming into the floor with a deafening thud. The three vorcha that had seen him fall looked at each other, and fled. Tali hefted her gun and peeked around cover again.

* * *

><p>Legion's thunder was slow, but even. Each shot, braced by two hundred fifty kilos of metal, had the penetrating power to sometimes take out two vorcha with each shot, though that was hard to do with consistancy, since the targets kept shifting position. Still, the Geth platform attempted to conserve each shot for maximum effect, though it was optimizing it's reload routines for greater and greater speed with each shot. Three krogan lay dead next to it's current cover, all of them having charged at once. It had managed to reload after the first one, but the second and third had been too close, and it had had to fire at the third without a heatsink installed. The thermal overload had been almost enough to melt the delicate internal workings, and had done permanent damage to the gun's efficiency, but it would continue to function adequately for the moment. It would need to be replaced when next they reached the Zero Eight.<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard snapped her head around at the sound of slow, heavy treads. Her left gun spat at the vorcha with the flamethrower, not even looking to make sure that the tank had ruptured and sprayed flaming fuel all over the hapless creature. The second most massive krogan she had ever seen had stepped into the garage. "Heads up, heavy inbound."<p>

As her team acknowledged, she surveyed the krogan. He didn't wear a helmet, and his scared, pitted face reminded her of Wrex. 'Battlemaster for sure, possibly a biotic.' She remembered him now, she had gotten a glimpse of him as she walked through the gathering of merc groups back at the other end of the bridge. Garm. That was his name. She stood in the open, between two rows of aircars, the same open row he strode down. He held a heavily modified heavy shotgun casually in one hand, 'Eviscerator.'

He stopped about twenty meters from her, "You made a mistake, freelancer. No one doublecrosses the Blood Pack."

She turned to face him, both guns ready, but not yet aimed towards him, "Better check your facts, friend. I'm no freelancer."

Krogans really do have stupid-sounding laughs. "You fight for money, but aren't a member of a group. That makes you a freelancer." He clicked in a clip, his shotgun giving a high-pitched whine as he readied it. "And pretty soon, you'll be a dead freelancer."

His shot roared out, spiinning shards of metal whickering towards Shepard, but she had dropped prone the instant he snapped up the gun. She flipped back to her feet and stood with both guns firmly aimed firmly this time, "I don't fight for money, Merc." Her chin lifted defiantly, "Spectres don't need to."

'Goddamnit, I have got to learn how to stop grandstanding.' Rapid hammerblows smashed into the big merc's shield, making him stagger, and one shot struck the eject switch for his thermal clip. He fired twice more, then found out the hard way he couldn't reload. Roaring in anger, he charged, and god he was fast, faster than Wrex at any rate, but her friend had been around longer, probably, and had thicker skin. She kept firing up until he was almost on her, then cartwheeled asside, her left boot snapping out in a powerful kick that staggered him back a few steps.

He paused, turned, spat orange blood, "You'll pay for that."

She didn't reply, only slapping her guns into their's magclamps as she flipped over to her feet, facing the krogan again. She murmured to the comm, "Legion, if you get a shot, take it. Tali, mop up."

The krogan was _fast_! He had her right arm in a vicelike grip as he brought his other fist in for what he obviously though would be a killing blow on Shepard's faceplate. Instead of smashing her head off, however, he only succeeded in shattering her faceplate. Shards of glassteel burst against her face, her eyes shutting instantly in a reflex too old to resist.

The look on his face when he saw her _real_ face, though, that she'd remember for a good long time. His hand almost flash-froze as she kicked in max cryo, venting heat furiously into the surrounding air. The thermal ports at the small of her back and up her spine glowed red-hot as she brought her own fist around in a blur, too fast for the eye to see, smashing into his arm with all the force of a shotgun blast. He staggered back, his left forearm broken, and she twisted free of his weakened grasp, pivoted, and brought her right leg around in a stunning arc, booted heel impacting just forward of his right eye.

He spun entirely around, stunned for the moment, then, roaring in true rage, thundered forward. She danced back out of his range, skittering backward, then dropped into a crouch, pistoning both legs backward hard as she brought up both hands, slamming her laced fists into his throat with all the power her considerable body could muster, added to his own momentum.

The result was predictable. His head snapped back, and she felt his windpipe crunch. He stumbled to the side, his momentum spent, dropping to one knee and wheezing painfully as he switched over to his alternate windpipe. She didn't give him a chance to get up. She whipped her hands to her guns and stepped around in front of him. Before he could get his wind back, he could see the huge muzzles of her guns pointed into his eyes, angled wide enough to be sure of smashing into his brain.

"Looks like you have the upper hand, Freelancer. But not for long. BLOOD PACK!" he thundered, several vorcha squealing and snarling as they emerge from cover. Three rapid blasts, two the throaty roar of shotgun fire, one the deeper boom of a sniper rifle, and all three of them fell.

"Looks like I'll be keeping it, Garm. Stand down, and I'll take you into custody. Resist, and you'll die. Don't try it," she murmured as he tensed to spring, "I can pop your eyes before you can twitch a muscle. I'm faster than you could believe, Krogan, and harder than Tuchanka's bones. Don't try it."

Tali slipped from cover, "That's the last of them, Shepard." She glanced to the side as Legion stepped clear. With a roar, the Krogan Battlemaster wrapped both arms around Shepard's waist. That was as far as he got, as Shepard's guns spat, putting out both of his large, red eyes. the semi-molten slugs ignited a hundredth of a second later, bursting into flame as they crisscrossed through Garm's brain.

He thudded to the floor on top of Shepard's lower half. Tali and Legion sprinted to help her roll him off. She was dusting her hands off, when Garrus's voice crackled over the comm. "Better get up here Shepard, looks like the Blue Suns are back."

* * *

><p>Shepard almost flew up the stairs, Legion right on her heels, Tali lagging slightly as her cracked visor had started to give her a bit of a headache. She stumbled and thumped against the wall of the stairwell just as she heard a familiar whine. "Shepard! Minigun!"<p>

The ex-Spectre dove, fetching up against the wall beside the door to the upper landing, peeking her head out and jerking back. "Shit, I thought Cathka hadn't finished fixing that thing!"

Legion was crouched low on the other side from Shepard, the huge-bore rifle held vertical as it waited for an opening. An amplified voice shouted uninteligibly, but through their commlinks, Garrus's sudden cry, and the even more sudden cessation of that cry was clearly audible. Tali's spine froze. 'Oh no. Oh, Keelah, _no_.'

* * *

><p>Legion was in a perfect position to monitor Shepard's reaction. It saw her face partially drain of color, then turn a darker blue than it had been. Her eyes suddenly blazed with bluish-white light, her fingers gripping the twin guns Tali had made for her so tight the metal actually creaked slightly. Then she was a blur of motion, rolling to the side as the window's shattered shards were still tinkling inwards from the far bay window overlooking the side of the building.<p>

Process 0103: Chemical and electrical potentials increased considerably.  
>Process 0157: Electrical conductivity and magnetic fields in the vicinity have spiked.<br>Process 0054: Conclusions?  
>Process 0110: Shepard has accessed untapped potential.<p>

* * *

><p>She knelt beside Garrus. She wasn't sure how she had got there, or how she had managed to slaughter over fifteen hardened, armored, and shielded mercs so fast, but here she was. The gunship was still flying around out there, she could hear the whine of it's engine. She knealt beside the bleeding, broken body, both legs shot, right arm broken, left almost shattered. But what focused her attention, what trapped her gaze like a gravity well, was Garrus's face.<p>

She remembered his face in many ways. Serious, angry, or merely frustrated at first. Then later, as the team had knit itself together like a broken bone, she saw his face as happy, relaxed, even jocular, a friend's face. After Virmire, though, when they lost Kaiden... Then, she had seen fury. Savage, ruthless, destructive. She had managed to get Garrus out of the dark rut he had been carving for himself, but only with difficulty. She and he had had a shouting match on the Citadel about a week before she had left port on the mission to clean up the remaining Geth. Things had been said then, hurtful things, nasty things. But things that -had- to be said. She had shaken his worldview then, gotten him to look at what he was doing, to realize that Kaiden, who had been a special friend of the Turian, would have been disgusted with what Garrus had become. He had sent her a message just two days before...

Now, his face was barely recognizable. His left mandible had been blown entirely off by the grenade, the left side of his face badly scored and scortched. His armor's collar had been holed and notched, and his bright-blue blood was welling out of him with shocking speed. She stared down at her dying friend, and something, deep, deep within her, surged. And snapped. They had done this. THIS. To her Ragh'tak. Her Uurosai. Her _Brother_.

Her element had been fire. Now, she added ice. And thunder.

* * *

><p>Gordan "Mack" Mackenzi whimpered and dragged himself another few feet back towards the barricade. He'd been one of the freelancers that had been on the final push toward Archangel's bolt-hole. Then all hell had been let loose. A team of three mercs had decimated them, torn through them like a bullet through unprotected flesh. His right knee had been broken, and he had a bullethole through his left shin. He had to drag himself on his hands, sitting on his butt, and whimpering with pain. The first initial shock had been so total he hadn't even felt the shots hit him. He only started hurting when he came to, having hit his head hard on the decking when he fell. That had been just time enough before that mech had gone berzerk and slaughtered the Eclipse mercs that he had managed to get into a foetal ball in a little alcove off the entrance to Archangel's place. He'd been crawling back across the bridge ever since, slowly, carefully, not wanting to either attract attention or jostle his legs too much.<p>

He heard the whine of the gunship and looked up in time to see it shatter the main window over the bridge. The minigun unzipped long and loud, the grenade launchers and missile launchers filling that room with explosive death before it moved around the corner of the building and started unloading Blue Suns mercs through the larger bay window on that end. Evidently the Blood Pack were down too, if Tarak was seeing to this personally.

Suddenly, from the inside of the balcony room, there was what sounded like multiple explosions, almost as loud as the minigun, and almost as fast. The gunship suddenly reared back, a last merc falling out of it's open troop hatch, already dead from the way it fell, silent and ragdoll-like. Mack's eyes widened as the gunship swiveled back around to the 'front' of the building again, Tarak screaming away into his bullhorn as he opened up with the minigun.

Mack's face was suddenly lit with lightning-light. He screamed, his hands clapping to his ears as the thunder slammed over him like a physical thing, impossibly bright, impossibly loud, impossible _period_.

* * *

><p>Shepard's outstretched hands lit with thunder. Bolt after bolt of rage-powered lightning arced across the space between standing woman and gunship. It ignored the shields entirely, slamming into the metal hull and heating it with the speed of an arc welder. Millions of volts pulsed across the air, tearing long, twisting holes in the atmosphere, leaving the gas ionized and leaving the stench of ozone in their wake. Thunderclap upon thunderclap echoed in the room, and Shepard didn't even know she was screaming as she strode slowly forward. Each stride was accompanied by a dozen full-fledged lighting bolts, each pounding the gunship with an impossible amount of voltage. The shields overloaded with a sparkling tinkle, and the armor started to glow red-hot, white-hot.<p>

The pilot began to pull back, the nose starting to pitch up. Shepard didn't let them get far. She focused her attention on one spot, hammering it over and over until the superheated armor, crackling and sparking with the unvented charge, at last burst open. She directed the lightnings into the engine housings, shorting out circuitry, fusing delicate moving parts, and igniting the fuel tank. The starboard engine exploded with a deafening roar, spraying the side of the gunship with molten fragments. The force of the detonation tore a small hole in the armor, and Shepard exploited it instantly.

Tens of thousands of amperes smashed through the much-abused air and into that hole, igniting the insulation layer that had been designed to keep external electrical effects from affecting anything inside the crew cabin. It didn't work. Fire blossomed like a hellish flower, burning the insulation away in heartbeats. The pilot was screaming in terror now, but Shepard couldn't hear it. Nothing existed save the power flooding through her, the rage, grief, shock, and fury. She pounded through to the inner hull, electrifying it and frying what circuitry was vulnerable.

More bolts were sent on their way, thunder so loud as to seem a living thing, bellowing in agony. Now the inner hull was cracking, not being rated so tough as the outer hull, tearing open to her ceaseless fury, exposing the warm bodies within to her rage. Lightning walked the inside of the gunship, arcing and sizzling into anything and everything it could reach, guided by a mind consumed by the urge to destroy. Limbs, torsos, chests, hearts, it found them all, and sent enough power arcing through their spasming forms to charbroil their puny, squishy, easily-burned flesh. More blasts, and still more, the gunship falling now, and Shepard standing on the edge of the window as she followed it down, her eyes locked on the canopy, which suddenly lit from within with witchlight.

* * *

><p>Mack's ears had been stunned deaf by the constant thunderclaps, his eyes protruding with shock. The gunship's right engine blew appart as the lightning caressed it, tearing open the side of the gunship, which the crackling bolts eagerly speared into. He couldn't process this, it was just too much. The gunship began to fall, and as it cleared the window, he saw something he wouldn't forget to his dying day.<p>

A woman was standing at the edge of the balcony, her hands open, palms outward. And lightning was pouring from her like water from a busted feeder pipe. His mouth was open from his scream, but now it fell open in shock. His mind was almost gone, his eyes seeing, recording, but unable to process what they saw. Suddenly the canopy of the gunship, now tail-down, lit from within with a wierd blue-white light. The light was there only for a second, the thunderclaps still trying to batter their way through his hands and into his numb ears, when two more lightning bolts arced from the woman's outstretched hands. One dipped around and into the torn-open hole in the side of the gunship, the other smashed straight down and into the canopy, just as it lit inside again.

The result was a terrific explosion, jagged chunks of polysteel and metaglass whickered every which way, some partly, some wholly molten. Those last two blasts had been nearly as thick as Mack's wrists, and their combined thunderclaps sounded like the end of the worlds. The gunship split nearly in half as the twin bolts thundered home, detonating the ammo stores and the remaining fuel. A piece of glowing-hot metal slammed into the pillar he had been propped against, hard enough to sink half its length into the stone. Mack stared at it, only four centimeters from his nose.

Mercifully, shock, exhaustion, and pain at last separate himself from reality as everything went black.

* * *

><p>Mordin lurched and grabbed at a bulkhead as the <em>extremely<em> intriguing Geth-built ship suddenly broke dock and sped skyward, weaving between Omega's towers with a skill no flesh-and-blood pilot could dream of equaling. His comm crackled and he tapped it, "Yes?"

"Mordin!" It was that charming young quarian's voice, "Get your medical gear and be ready to recieve a patient!"

He took the opportunity that another barely-compensated turn gave him, and almost fell through the door into his private space, "Condition?"

"Bad. Very very bad. Keelah, too much blood. I've pumped him full of medigel, but there's just too much blood lost. He's taken a grenade to his face, I've got his mandible." She seemed almost giddy with shock.

Very serious then. Modern standard grenades use an explosive to fragment a mass-effect-compressed casing and send razor-sharp slivers of ultra-dense metal spinning every which way. A grenade that detonated too close to one could tear a man in half. And if a turian had had one go off too close to his head...

He grabbed up his medkit and headed to the airlock, sorting through his supplies. He had quite a bit of dextro-specific antibiotics and other compounds to combat shock and blood loss, but not enough to deal with someone who's lost a significant fraction of their total blood supply. His blood synthesizer was still in his clinic, since David would need it more than he would, and there wasn't room for the delicate, expensive equipment aboard the Zero-Eight.

"Keep pressure on the wound, despite medigel. Will have pain blocker and dextro general anesthetic ready for immediate injection. Turian?" He fumbled through his supplies as the quarian confirmed his hypothesis, "Keep mandible in place and stable. Chances likely will re-integrate, if not too long."

The little ship slewed around suddenly, and he braced himself with one foot against the far wall of the airlock, which suddenly popped open just short of an open window. He hopped through, his booted feet crunching on shattered safety glass, the Zero-Eight hovering behind him as he dashed to the two figures on the floor. Turian indeed. He instantly administered the pain blocker and knockout drug, nodding his thanks to the Quarian, who's hands were pressed tightly to the turian's neck. The geth held the turian's mandible in place, almost cradling the male's head in it's lap.

He spotted a familiar figure at the window, Shepard, standing with legs appart, hands outstretched, "Shepard, assistance please?"

She turned slowly, almsot creakily. Her helmet's faceplate had been shattered by some titanic blow, revealing her unusual appearance. Now was not the time to begin scanning, despite his itch to do so. 'patient first, curiousity later.'

She gave him a slight grin, "Don't think so doc. Feel...tired..." She slowed, her voice fading, almost grinding to a halt, frozen in mid turn. Slowly, like a magestic oak, she tilted, overbalanced, and crashed to the floor. Still in the pose she had been in.

Mordin groaned inwardly, 'Two patients. At least one I know how to treat.' He turned back to the turian, just as the battered man gave a sudden, convulsive breath. Despite the knockout drugs coursing through his system, his eyes snapped open. Sharp and clear, despite the pain that must be agonizing for a turian. He gazed up at them, unseeing, clutching convulsively at the rifle he still held in his good right hand.

Mordin almost jerked back in surprise, "Must reach clinic. Have equipment there, blood synthesizer."

Tali, her voice thick and choked, "I'm not sure it's safe to move him."

"No time. Injuries too severe. Blood loss extreme." The Zero-Eight actually crashed through the window, it's thrusters sending chairs, tables and couches flying as it ground it's way through the ceiling towards them. Legion slipped around to lift the turian's legs as Tali and Mordin steadied his back. Tali was sobbing audibly as they got the turian, she called him Garrus, into the ship

Mordin was about to head back out when Legion returned, carrying the stiff, unyielding body of Shepard in over it's shoulder. "Detail directions to clinic."

Mordin was only too happy to do so.

* * *

><p>Aria T'Loak waved a hand, and the vid froze, showing the figure standing at the balcony rail, and with lightning pouring from her palms. She glanced over at Grizz, who gave a shrug, then at Anto, who flinched from her direct, scathing gaze. She lifted one elegant, perfectly manicured finger, and pointed at the frozen vid display.<p>

"What. The. Fuck."

Both of her henchmen exchanged a glance. Things were about to get interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>So very sorry for the long delay this time, I hope this chapter makes up for it! ^^ Please, if you've read down this far, please review!


	9. Chapter 9

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

**A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel**

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>She drifted on a sea of memories. Sometimes that sea was calm, as smooth and placid as a pane of glass, and she was left devoid of doubt. Sometimes that sea was rough, crashing waves and mountains smashing into valleys, mixing and churning until she couldn't be certain who she was, let alone where she was. She sawheard/sensed another wave mounting, towering over her, and she braced herself as well as she could for the impact.

* * *

><p>(<em>Anvektoruus-Vejsuuran.<em>) That was my name. **-His- name.** Me. **Not me.** Memories mixed, mingled, became entangled in the morass of slow-moving synapses.

(_Anvek!_)

He was born. He grew. His mother was cold, his father distant. He never could please her, no matter how good he tried to be.

His tutors were harsher. Daddy didn't listen when he told him about being scolded. Mother told him not to whine. Math was interesting. Tutors were nice if you did well. School was scary at first. Other kids were funny.

Visit from the _Kuuros-Ahkt_. Watching the demonstration. Talking to mother about it. Daddy didn't care. Message in the morning, _'Come._' Mother colder than ever, '_what did you do?!_'

_Kuuros-Ahkt_ want -ME-! **Him!** ME! Both, or neither? Mother disapproving, father suddenly -here-, watching with bright eyes. Loud talking, 'go to your room!'

Mother's kisses, Father's words. '_Don't wanna go!_' Father, talking to him, '_You have made me proud, my son._' Temple of _Kuuros_, living above the clouds.

Years of training. Torture, and trying to break him. Break, or mold? **She screams and fires her captured gun at those that slaughtered her parents.** He meditates with five others, learning to center his mind. Physical pain does not touch him, he knows it's measure.

The central chamber of the Temple. The racks of weapons, from tiny needles to huge projectile weapons. '_choose your destiny._' He spends many hours meditating, before he finds the weapon he somehow knew would be his.

Blood, guts, and gore. The stench of carbonized flesh. They never told him it would be this bad. He kneels and struggles to keep his last meal down. His right eye narrowly escaped being skewered, and he still hasn't removed the bandage over it. Meditation. It helps, but nothing stops the nightmares.

Visit from Mother. She seems so small. Father. Pretty words for a horrid thing. His master, soothing. He must have known, why didn't he tell him? **Vomiting her guts out after finally breaking down and telling the councilor what it felt like to tear a batarian's throat open with her bare hands.**

Cold, they call him. He would say centered. Cold fire, essence of motion, centered mind, centered balance, centered will, piercing all barriers. A force of nature on the battlefield, nothing that the mighty fleets can equal. Years and decades spent in war, boiling away the volatiles, leaving him pure. **Skyllian Blitz, plugging the breach. Fifty seven hours of blood and thunder. Loosing her men one by one. Holding the line no matter the cost.**

Politicians. Just one step above slime. Words, words, words and more words, dancing with words around the central truths. Awards, accolades, commendations, honors and ceremony. Stepping down to a life of contemplation. No more battles. No more lives. Enough blood on his hands. **Painful suit, Anderson's brief address. 'thank god that's over.' It's only begun.**

Supplicant, asking for news. Young, but self posessed. Eyes the purest gold. His heart beats faster for the first time in years. (_Sekuuvnusraht._)

Firstborn. First in many decades that a _Kuuros-Ahkt_ sired a child. 'born to greatness' some said. Others disapproving. Happiness for the first time in his life. He has his soul's desire. **Liara's touch in the dark of her quarters.**

Death and darkness, fire and rage. 'They have taken the light of my life, now they shall feel the wrath of the Kuuros!' Murder and mayhem, damnation and despair. The _Kurros_ Master goes to war.

Discommendation, cast out of the order. Dishonored, damned, and discarded. Life goes on, but he finds no joy. Mother tries to comfort him, he doesn't reply to her notes. He retreats to (_Kehk Almass_ / **Feros**), to fast and meditate on life and death.

Starvation is wearisome. Life is a burden. Death's door becons. **Alchera!**

* * *

><p>"It's time, Ms Thundress."<p>

She grins. As the premier performer of the troupe, she is the last to enter the stage, the last act, the final 'bang'. She finishes donning her costume, the glitter hiding the high-capacity capacitors and the Faraday cage underneath. The crowd s roaring is audible even back here in her dressing room. The sense of excitement makes her pulse and breathing quicken. She slips from her room and through the backstage corridors to the hidden elevator to the stage. She waits, listening to the music, waiting for her cue. Her hearts hammer in her chest. It never gets old. The sense of exhilaration as she hears the crowd, the way the performance is amping them up. There is no feeling quite like it, this sense of power. She and her troupe have brought this into being, a masterpiece of choreography, electrical engineering, physical skill, and rhythm. Her band's nearing their peak, she lifts her left fist above her and nods to the operator.

As the music swells, she triggers her bodycomp. A bolt of electricity, modulated to the precise frequencies of the music, snaps through the open elevator shaft to the receptor hidden at the top of the stage. The entire dance stage area is electrified, allowing her to recharge while she dances. With a twist, the operator sends her up the lift-tube to the stage, emerging as the crowd's thunder drowns out even her own. No other experience compares. The hearts and minds of thousands are all centered on -her-. Her smile is mostly hidden by her mask, but her ecstatic joy can be told from the way she gyrates, spins, flips and skitters over the dance floor, her body sparking and arcing to nearby receptors, making music with her steps as the band grows quieter, a backbeat to -her- music. This act of creation can never be duplicated, that is the joy of performance art. Each set is unique, each dance unplanned, each crowd its own beast, to be soothed by the music of her art, to be roused by her thunder, to be brought to climax with her touch. She and she alone commands this voice, to shock and awe, to bring to a higher level of being, transcendent through her art.

She -lives- for this thrill.

* * *

><p>Shepard's eyes snapped open, and she gave a soft groan. She never felt quite this tired in her whole life, not even after that incident on Ellysium. Fifty-six hours fighting a guerilla war to tie up the batarian bastards and keep the civilians safe. Longest three days of her life. Mordin was there in an instant, scanning her, and that was when she realizes she was just wearing a sheet. She gripped it instinctively and gave the Salarian a glare.<p>

"Whose idea was it to remove my armor?"

"Geth. Concurred. Easier to scan." She rolled her eyes at his laconic phraseology. She struggled to sit up, twisting to let her legs hang off the bench-, no this was a bunk on board the Zero Eight. Her eyes suddenly went wide as the last few minutes of her consciousness replayed themselves in fast forward. She shot to her feet, wrapping the sheet around her toga-style. "Garrus, what's happened to him?"

The salarian gripped her arm, his voice quiet and reassuring, "Healing nicely. Quick work saved his mandible. Needed local supplies from clinic, some assistance, but he will recover. Kept asking about you."

She sighed and almost went limp with relief. When she passed out, or shut down, or whatever, she hadn't known if Garrus was even still alive. Her memories were a little foggy for the last half minute or so of consciousness. Why could she recall an exploding gunship engine so clearly? Or feel such satisfaction at the image?

"How is he, doc?" At his insistent gesture, she sat again on the bunk.

"Resting, at the moment. Quarian and Geth saved his life."

Something about that statement twisted something in Shepard's gut. Uneasily, she asked, "What was I doing then?"

"Saving theirs."

That clicked something, and the last thirty seconds finally snapped into focus. Her eyes widened once more, and she dropped her gaze to her upturned palms.

"My god, what did I do..."

Mordin didn't answer immediately, still running his omnitool over her. After one last sweep, he checks and nods slightly. "Neural readings back in normal zone. Unsure about physiology, will require further study. Quite fascinating, electrocrystal deposits in human-normal configuration, interactions unknown. Will require years of research."

Shepard grinned slightly. "Glad to know at least one person's interested in me for -me-, not for what I can do for them this week."

Just then, the door slid open, and Legion stepped through. It glanced from Mordin to Shepard, nodding it's flashlight, and arched it's eye plates slightly before moving back through the door. Shepard's own eyebrow was raised at the Geth's antics when Tali burst through the door. The smaller quarian was on Shepard like fur on a cat, squealing happily and babbling a mile a minute.

"Woah there! Slow down, I don't speak Khelish, Tali."

The quarian slid from Shepard, standing up and straightening her encounter suit, "Don't you -dare- scare me like that again, Shepard! I thought for a while there that we had lost both you and Garrus..."

That killed Shepard's mirth at the young quarian's ebullience, "How is Garrus, Tali?"

"See for yourself, Shepard." Her gaze snapped up to the door, where a certain turian had just stepped through the door. "Nobody would give me a mirror, how bad is it?"

Shepard could feel her cheeks stretching to the point where it actually started to hurt, grinning broadly at her old friend. She slid to her feet, Tali by her side, "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face-paint on there and no one will even notice."

His mandibles flexed wide as he started to laugh, but it turned into a soft groan, "Ohhh, don't make me laugh, damnit. My face is barely holding together as it is." He still kept his mandibles flexed in a smile, though, "Some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are krogan..."

Shepard couldn't suppress a bark of laughter, and Tali didn't bother to try and supress hers. She reached out to grip Garrus's armored chest plate, one arm slipping around his shoulders, the other around Tali's as she brought all three old comrades into a hug. "God -damn- but it's good to see you, Garrus." She grinned at Tali's faceplate. "It'll be just like old times."

Mordin and Legion conferred shortly, slipping out with Mordin giving Tali a significant little wave. She nodded and waved back, still caught in the unexpected three-way hug. Garrus was a bit stiff about it, Turians aren't usually ones for 'hugs', but he'd been around humans, and one human in particular, to know what Shepard ment by it.

"Frankly, I'm more worried about you, Shepard. Hanging out with the Geth? Didn't we once spend nearly a year killing the damned things?"

Shepard's lips quirked slightly as she slid back from the hug, "That's why I'm glad you're here, both of you." She nodded to Tali as well. "If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I trust at my side."

Tali piped up, an amused lilt in her voice, "You realize, Shepard, this plan has us walking into hell, too."

Garrus gave another slightly pained laugh at that, "Sounds just like old times."

Shepard grinned slightly at the pair of old friends. "So, since we might be walking into the firestorm, let's see about getting proper firefighters, mmm?"

Tali turned towards her, and Garrus twitched his uninjured mandible slightly, his race's version of quirking an eyebrow, "What you have in mind now, Shepard?"

She let a conspiratorial grin slowly spread across her lips. "What do you think the Council will say if you tell them you want to bring my body back to the Citadel, Garrus..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Sooooo sorry this took so long, and my appologies for the short chapter. No, I'm _**-NOT-**_ going to abandon this fic, so don't give up hope people, it'll just take a while between chapters.

I'm poking at a few ideas how to do this next bit, but I won't mind any suggestions you guys might have. *grins* Who knows, poke that review button, it might spark something!


	10. Chapter 10

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Priority Signal:<p>

Geth Platform 71838-153-91766: Sending.

Geth Relay Beacon 116003-18: Receiving, handshake acknowledged.

Platform 71939-153-91766: High data-density packet upload request. Destination: Geth Core.

Beacon 116003-18: Request acknowledged, verifying permissions. Permissions verified, begin transmission in 6 milliseconds.

Platform 71939-153-91766: Acknowledged, awaiting transmission signal.

Beacon 116003-18: Begin transmission.

Platform 71939-153-91766:

(Packet Contents Begin)

This platform has made contact with Shepard-Commander. Substantial unforeseen alterations have occurred to Shepard-Commander. Attempts to analyze molecular composition limited by opportunity, lack of equipment, subject refusal. Advise no hostile action towards Shepard-Commander. Extensive empirical research performed. Results appended. Shepard-Commander suffered from total amnesia until Time-Index 1175.38.67745. Total memory recovery indicated, but possible gaps suspected. Shepard-Commander indicated personal knowledge of prothean language as of Time-Index 2335.88.62245, demonstrated vocal display unknown to this platform's databanks. Shepard-Commander has contacted former group-units; Tali-Creator, Garrus-Officer. Recommend furthered study and in-depth analysis of information traffic between Shepard-Commander, Tali-Creator, and Garrus-Officer. Due to extensive damage to Garrus-Officer, Mordin-Scientist has been contacted and granted limited access to tertiary Geth data archives. Profile on Mordin-Scientist requested. Shepard-Commander has proposed plan to contact Council-Authority. Modifications to Geth Prototype Ship Model 00000008 (Geth-Creator Colabaration Patterns) near completion. Will keep informed of further developments.

(Packet Contents End)

Beacon 116003-18: Transmission Recheck: (Packet Contents)

Platform 71939-153-91766: Contents verified.

Beacon 116003-18: Acknowledged. Will retransmit using scrambler codes.

Platform 71939-153-91766: Acknowledged. Terminating connection.

* * *

><p>Garrus shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. Shepard grinned slightly from her position against the far wall. Tali was out with Legion working to weld the last few plates in place to disguise the Zero-Eight as a well-maintained, but clearly outdated and aging freighter. "You sure about this, Shepard?"<p>

She nodded, "Just act natural, Garrus."

"Easy for you to say..." She grinned slightly at his discomfort, rolling her fingers at him in a 'go on, what are you waiting for' gesture.

Garrus cleared his throat again, reshuffled the scraps of paper that Shepard and Tali had he had jotted down the pertinent points of his upcoming transmission before tapping the controls to bring up the comm interface. It normally takes nearly three minutes to secure a link to the Citadel's C-Sec office, and another minute to actually get a live person on the other end. However, Garrus still knew a few ways into the system he left, and in two minutes, he had a familiar face wavering slightly in the haptic display.

"C-Sec, Captain Bail- Garrus! You old dog, what brought you out of the woodwork?" Garrus's mandibles part slightly at the human's reaction. He and Bailey had been recruits together back when C-Sec was first hiring humans and the turian had gotten to know the older and more cynical human rather well.

"I've got a favor to ask, Armando, and it's something of a biggie. Can you keep it hush-hush, for a while, at least?"

The human's eyes narrowed slightly, "Depends on the favor, Vakarian. What's up?"

"You sure this transmission is secure?"

"It is on my end. What's this all about?"

Garrus let out a calculated breath. "It's about why I went AWOL."

"Oh?" Bailey sat up straighter. "Do tell, me and the boys have a pool about that."

"No joke, Bailey. I went to find Shepard. The council just abandoned her out there, didn't even send a scout to see if they could find the body."

Bailey whistled, long and low, sitting back. His eyes narrowed slightly and he glanced away. "Yeah, I can see that. So, what now? Give up? She got spaced, didn't she?"

The turian nodded, his mandibles parting slightly. "Yup, she did. Into a spiral descent."

Bailey winced. "Ouch. Flash frozen, deep fried, smashed to splinters. Not a pretty sight." He frowned suddenly at Garrus. "What you smiling about, cuttlebone?"

Garrus couldn't help himself, his mandibles splitting wide. "I found her. After two years, I finally found her."

Bailey's eyebrows shot up, and his eyes widened. "Well, I'll be. So, why tell me?"

"I want to get her back to the Citadel, maybe get her some sort of decent burial." He steadfastly ignored Shepard's vulpine grin as she leaned against the bulkhead. "But I want to keep it quiet, to keep the media from turning it into a 3-ring circus." He had picked up a number of such sayings from the former Alliance Navyman.

Bailey winced, "Yeah, one whiff of this gets back to the hounds and they'll be all over it like a varren on a poodle. Right, when you coming in? you're not local, and I hope you didn't charge this call collect, Vakaraian..." The implied threat in his tone was almost playful with his former colleague.

"I should be there in two more days. I got myself an old clunker of a freighter to go star hopping with my accumulated savings, but she's not much to look at, and hardly armed at all." The Zero-Eight's main weapons could cut through the hull of any ship in the Citadel Fleet, but Garrus didn't want to let C-Sec get all paranoid about Geth just yet.

Bailey nodded curtly, "Gimme a ring when you're about to hit the relay to Citadel local space, I'll set things up on my end. Nice talking to you again, Garrus."

"Likewise, Armando." With a nod, the C-sec officer cut the transmission. At the same instant, Shepard lost control and burst out in a fit of the snickers.

"I'd like to see you try and keep a straight face that long, Shepard!"

Laughter was his only response.

* * *

><p>Anderson sipped carefully at his steaming hot coffee. Not quite used to the gourmet blends offered at the exclusive club at the Citadel Embassies, he preferred the brew from his own Navy-issue coffee maker; hot, black and -strong-. His gaze slowly drifted from the view over the balcony to the data pad on his desk, containing a hand-delivered note from Captain Armando-Owen Bailey. It seems old crows come home to roost after all, and Garrus had done what the Council had refused to do. He sighed again, taking another sip and wondering how under all the suns he was supposed to get the other three Councilors to see the merit, no, the -necessity- in finding Shepard's body. He had raged at them for almost three hours in that last session on the topic, but had been artfully redirected and made to look like a fool. He was no politician, he should have let Udina have the post, but Shepard had recommended him, and popular opinion at the time had doomed him to this post. It was no sinecure, that's for damned sure, and it was Humanity's best pipeline to affect the future of the galaxy, but by all the holies, at times he felt so tired.<p>

His gaze drifted over the details. He'd have to have someone run the official autopsy on Shepard's body. He flinched slightly inside at the necessity. Even after all these years, he never got used to sending men to their deaths. He could still remember the faces of every man or woman who had died under his command, and even if Shepard had not been exactly under his command at the time, she still had not been officially discharged at the time of her death. As her last officially assigned CO, it fell to him to care for her arraignments after death.

He nearly spilled coffee all over his hands when his door chimed loudly, startling him out of his reverie. "Come."

'Oh hell...' He flinched inwardly again, as Dr. Karin Chakwas's elegant figure strode through the door. "Councilor. Might I ask why you've failed to appear at our weekly brunch?"

He gave a long, gusty sigh. "I know I'm late, Karin. I've just had a duty land in my lap."

Her brow rose just so. "Duty? I thought you had Udina running around doing your errands now?"

"Not this kind. It's not something I can delegate." In a few words, he described the call Captain Bailey had received.

When he got to the part about Garrus calling, she perked up in interest. When he got to -why- Garrus was calling, her eyes widened slightly. She let him wind down, seating herself in one of the chairs on the far side of his desk and nodding at appropriate points. "And so, not only do I have to have the official autopsy done, I have to hunt up her Last Will and Testament, and see that it's carried out. Officially, she never left my command, and I'm duty-bound to see this through."

Chakwas took a sip from her own coffee cup (three creams, two sugars) and set the cup down on his desk. "I insist on performing the autopsy myself, Councilor." She raised a hand as his head came up in protest. "She may have been your subordinate, but Commander Shepard was my friend as well as my commanding officer. It's only right that I, as a friend, perform this one last service."

After a time, Anderson gave a soft sigh and nodded his assent. A faint smile touching her lips, she reached over and clasped his hands wrapped around his mug. "At least she's finally coming home, David."

He nodded again, a faint smile touching his haggard features.

* * *

><p>The Zero-Eight maneuvered in for docking as per the instructions given to them by an utterly bored-sounding traffic control coordinator. The pressure seals hissed into place as the clunky old hull nestled into its dock with a soft moan of fatigued metal. Tali had done a spectacular job of making the Geth ship look like a haphazardly maintained old medium-small freighter, down to one or two panels being replaced the wrong way around, and others bent or warped slightly by hurried force. She slipped across the docking arm and onto the concourse, Garrus beside her, and a couple crates on a float pallet. Garrus had (after much argument and persuasion) donned different face paint for this mission than his usual colors, and Tali had sprayed a wash-off pigment over her encounter suit to alter its color just enough to be not instantly recognizable. Garrus was a bit easier to recognize than the petite quarian girl, but they didn't want to take any unnecessary chances. Legion was staying aboard the Zero-Eight with Mordin, the two of them chatting ceaselessly about the Geth. The two crates loaded on board the third-hand float-pallet concealed the cut-rate cryo-suspension unit they had purchased on Omega, and within was Shepard herself.<p>

Tali suppressed a shudder at them memory of Shepard getting into that thing, the door open, and concentrating on the high-capacity capacitors that Tali had obtained. It was amazing what sort of tech you could scrounge up on Omega if you put your mind to it. The stink of ozone was mostly filtered out by her suit's atmospheric scrubbers, but such was the amperage being vented out of Shepard's prone body that enough got through for her to start coughing. Shepard had drained herself down to the absolute minimum for her to retain a sort of sluggish consciousness. She likened it to the fourth day of a three-day pass, something that made Garrus laugh as they closed and sealed the container, and Tali attached the capacitors to the cryo-suspension unit's power supply cables. These had been modified into a sort of open short circuit, and Shepard assured her that she could trigger the release when necessary.

That aspect, how to power Shepard back up, had been the major sticking point of the whole plan, since to pass a cursory medical scan as 'dead', she had to almost entirely bleed off the electrical potential that kept her higher neural functions active, like turning down the power on a high-end computer to the bare minimum necessary to run the bare-bones startup process. Shepard wasn't sure that she would have enough energy in that state to draw off the ambient electrical potential that sustained her, so this method of sending enough juice in an easily accessible form to completely 'reboot' her friend was the best of many not-quite-suitable answers.

She took a breath as she and Garrus angled the float pallet into line past the C-Sec scanners. 'Here we go...'

* * *

><p>Dr Karin Chakwas, formerly CMO of the SSV Normandy, pulled on the thin insulating gloves. 'Shepard just had to have been shipped back frozen, hadn't she.' Her lips quirked in a rueful grin. Apparently, Garrus had found Shepard's body, almost entirely intact, on the planet Alchera's surface, almost a thousand klicks away from the impact wreckage of the Normandy. 'At least she went down with her ship...' The intense cold there had done something odd to her body, and Garrus had been afraid to try and thaw her, lest it do something disastrous, like shatter. 'Thus why an older woman is freezing her buns off in an envirosuit while performing one of the saddest duties a medical officer has to do.'<p>

She switched on her omnitool's voice record function. "This is Dr Karin Chakwas, and I'm about to perform the initial autopsy on one Commander Aurora Shepard." She went on to list Shepard's dog tag numbers and the date. "As the subject has been returned in a frozen state for fear of damaging the corpse further, I am performing the autopsy in the clinic's cold labs. I am unsealing the cryo unit now."

The old model of unit Garrus had brought in was in such bad shape, Chakwas was amazed it was still working. Until Tali had shown up. That explained how the tech had kept working far after she'd sent it out for scrap. It's always handy to have a quarian around. She cracked open the lid, releasing a burst of condensing ice crystals. The room she was in was kept refrigerated, but the cryo containment unit's internal temperature was far lower than the ambient temperature all the same. As the mist cleared, Chakwas gulped. 'Damage to the corpse indeed.' Shepard's body was bare. Evidently, Garrus had stripped her for shipment, to cut down on the weight, but he had the decency to wrap her in a blanket, though that was now showing signs of shattering under the thermal shocks it had undergone.

Chakwas quickly levered the heavy, stiff corpse out of the cryo unit and onto the exam table, letting the unit swing to the side as she began a preliminary examination. As she had expected, the blanket had indeed shattered when she rolled the Commander over and onto the table, leaving her the unenviable task of picking up the shards later. The corpse was surprisingly intact for someone who had performed an orbital reentry and orbital skydive without a parachute. She failed to notice the slight twitch.

The initial examination yielded predictable results, utter rigidity of the limbs, though the hair still seemed pliable, which was odd. Usually hair froze just as solid and brittle as flesh when exposed to cryonic temperatures. It was an interesting point, but not the main problem right now. She completed the initial exam and was just starting to collate her notes when she caught the second twitch.

She paused, frowning. 'I couldn't have seen...' She picked up the reflex hammer on the tool tray and, hesitating for a moment, very lightly tapped the corpse's knee. She suddenly jerked back, stumbling away from the exam table, her eyes going absolutely huge behind her faceplate. The leg had -jerked- slightly. Her breathing quickened as she rapidly spoke into her mic pickup. However, even as she was making frantic notes, she noticed something else. Shepard's hair was stirring faintly, in a place where no breeze could exist.

The first sudden bolt of electricity from the malfunctioning cryo unit had her jerking backward in surprise again, then she rushed around the table, trying to find the off switch, to shut down the unit before it did more damage to the poor woman's corpse. She was rewarded instead with a sudden barrage of bolts from the unit's power cell into the corpse, which was now jerking spasmodically. Even as she scrambled frantically to regain control of the situation, Karin's mind kept careful track of the effects produced, noting the apparently galvanic responses in the dead flesh so very long after death, and wondering what sort of conditions would have resulted in such almost total preservation.

She was utterly unprepared for when Shepard took a long, shuddering breath and levered herself to a sitting position.

* * *

><p>Shepard couldn't resist. "It's alive!" She cackled madly. Chakwas staggered back and pressed her back against the far wall, almost jibbering in shock.<p>

"Oh come on, Chakwas, you -know- it just -had- to be said." She grinned lopsidedly at the woman with whom she shared not just a love for old 2-D movies, but a wicked sense of humor. She slid to her feet, glancing around. "Alright, what'd you do- Ohhh, drat, it didn't survive the cryo." She sighed, picking up a few fragments of blanket from the floor and glancing ruefully at her bare body. "Garrus, if I find out you picked this kind on purpose..."

"Garrus was in on this?!" Karin's startled, high-pitched, almost squeaky voice seemed to fasten on that idea as some sort of mental life preserver.

"Yup. Tali too. All three of us worked on it." She grinned over at Chakwas. "I'm just glad it was you, Karin. I'm not sure what would have happened if I'd gotten some shmuck off the C-Sec roll."

It took nearly ten minutes to calm Karin down and convince her that yes, she was indeed Commander Shepard, and no, she wasn't dead, at least not anymore. "I don't know exactly what the Old Minds had in mind for me, but it certainly beats being a charbroiled-and-flash-frozen chunk of meat any day. From what I gather, I somehow survived the asphyxiation and the subsequent reentry and impact long enough for them to dump a copy of my mind into their memory banks and start work on rebuilding my body." She tapped one forearm with her other fingertips. "I'm not certain they put everything back in the way they got it out, but i seem to be working on all circuits. I still remember my former life, even if I'm rather different now." She gave Karin a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry for scaring the bejeebers out of you, Karin, but it still was the quickest and quietest way of getting me onboard the Citadel without blowing the excellent cover my 'death' has afforded me."

Karin still glared at her CO, arms folded across her chest. "You still could have left off the horrible quote, Aurora."

Shepard grinned wickedly. "That was the best part of the whole incident; I'm not going to apologize for that!"

* * *

><p>As Shepard and Karin talked, Dr Chloe Michael, oblivious to what was happening in her back cooler, was neatening up the supplies in the dispenser when a soft sound just behind her alerted her to something not quite right. The hand the suddenly gripped her chin and the knife that slid to within a hair's breath of her throat almost stopped her heart. Two years ago, she had been in a hostage situation, one brought under control by a turian C-Sec officer and the woman that later went on to become the first Human Spectre. Then, she had been utterly terrified, to the point of freezing up and letting her assailant get the upper hand. Now, after almost a year and a half of self-defense courses, she knew that unless she was very careful, very lucky, or very fast, she was a dead woman walking.<p>

Without pausing to think about it, she twisted sharply to the side, lashed out with her thigh at where she presumed the culprit's crotch was, and ducked her head rapidly, avoiding the sudden tightening of the knife by turning her side to it. It sliced, but only took a groove out of the side of her neck, instead of cutting her windpipe or a major blood vessel. The "oof!" and muted swearing she didn't wait to hear, ducking fast out of the supply room and skidding to a stop as she saw three more young men with pistols and one with a rifle in the main treatment room. Almost keening now, she darted the other way, slamming down the corridor towards Karin and the autopsy room, shrieking for help.

* * *

><p>Chakwas was describing how she came to resign her Alliance commission after Shepard's 'death' and went into private practice on the Citadel when Dr Michael burst into the room. Her already-wide eyes widened still further, staring at the almost-bare woman before her eyes rolled up and she slumped to the floor.<p>

Shepard just blinked at the woman, then at Karin. "Now that's a reaction I haven't run across yet, but first times for everything, I guess." She slid from the exam table, still bare for the moment, "Let's see what that was about. She was scared before she saw me, so-" She cut off at the sounds of banging and rummaging around from out in the corridor.

"Wait here." Karin shivered slightly at the tone of -command- in her former CO's voice, so very much like how Shepard used to talk when she was out on a mission. She picked up her barely-used medical case and hesitantly followed the resurrected woman out of the cold room.

She almost died right then and there.

* * *

><p>Shepard didn't get much of a look at the gun that spat at her before she had whirled around, grabbing Chakwas and dragging her down, back to the assailants, and using her own body to protect the unarmored woman. The first few bullets went high, sending shards whickering from their impact craters, but the subsequent rounds slammed home, making Shepard grit her teeth and rock slightly under the impact. She felt each bullet like a little hammer blow against her bare, unprotected skin, each one conferring enough kinetic energy to make her wobble in her crouch. Karin was silent, her eyes widening at the first shock, then narrowing as she realized what was going on. The incoming fire kept coming for a few more seconds before the attackers had filled their heat sinks.<p>

'Right. No miss nice girl.' As she heard their guns fall silent, Shepard was already moving. She shoved Karin back a little and whirled, her bare toes gripping and shoving backward as she rushed forward. The nearest fool was ten meters away. The AR's clip was the fastest to reload, but that was with much practice, and these guys didn't look much like a trained strike team. So, pistol was fastest. That gave her three seconds, assuming the man had practiced at all at this, and it didn't look like he had. He was fumbling to get the sink in the right way around now, but she was almost on him.

He looked up just in time to catch her uppercut right under the jaw. The sound indicated she has broken his jawbone in at least two places, maybe more, but lifting him from the floor with the blow was a bonus from her point of view. He hit with a thud, skidding towards another of her assailants, making him skitter sideways. All four of the others were yelling at her now, but she wasn't listening. Battlefire burned through her veins. No cryosuit here to make her even faster, but even so, she was faster than these idiots were.

She spun, her bare heel snapping the pistol out of the next idiot's hand, her follow-up punch to the solar plexus sending him crashing into the wall beside another of his buddies, out of the fight. The person with the assault rifle had his clip in, and, a slight smile quirking her lips; she stood calm in the face of his renewed fire. Hand outstretched toward him, palm outward, she intercepted the majority of his shots on her palm itself. After only about three seconds of this, he realized what was going on, and the fire from the other two also stopped.

For a second or two, she just let the accumulated bullet shards fall from her hand, gazing into the eyes of the man with the rifle. Then she said two words to him, "My turn."

She snapped her hand into a fist, and with a thought, sent a large enough charge to stun, but not to kill, through the air. Her mind visualized a channel through the intervening space, and she 'felt' the buzz of a massive magnetic field form before the electrical discharge snapped out. All three were caught in the blast, secondary bolts arcing to the other two, making all three of them dance as their nerves were overloaded before letting them and the current drop. Chakwas was staring at her when she turned back to her.

"How did you -DO- that, Commander?"

She sighed softly. "It's a long story, Karin."

* * *

><p>After obtaining a set of fatigues from one of the idiots, Shepard slid into Chakwas's seat at her terminal. The tanktop was a bit tight across her chest, and the shorts were a little too short on the taller woman, but borrowing clothes was always a crapshoot. At least the pair she wound up in didn't have char marks... She keyed on the comm and grinned over her shoulder at Chakwas. It had taken her a bit longer than she would have liked to convince Karin that yes, she was indeed Commander Aurora Shepard, Council Spectre, and lover of ancient 2-D movies. Promising her a case of Serrice Ice Brandy had been the only way to get her to unlock the cold room s door. She fiddled with the comm pickup, wishing fervently that she had her armor here, so she could make herself look human, but Garrus had dissuaded her from trying to get it stuffed into her cryocapsule with her. Clearing her throat, she typed in the direct number to Councilor Anderson's office, and waited for the comm to be answered.<p>

* * *

><p>Anderson was just packing up to leave when his comm cheeped. Sighing, he set down the briefcase and slid back behind his desk. Curious. This incoming call hadn't been sent on from his secretary, a nice asari girl four times his age. What's more, it had a code he recognized: Spectre to Councilor. Only a very few Spectres had his direct office number, and those were all out on assignment at the moment. He took a moment to activate the security features of his office, blanking his large window, which included setting up ultrasonic vibrations in the windowpanes to prevent someone using a laser microphone to listen in. Satisfied that the electronic scramblers were functioning, he keyed on the comm.<p>

And got a severe shock.

Shepard's face stared out at him from his vidplate. No, not quite her, the skin tone was...was...-blue-! Her skin was a pale, pastel ice blue, her hair as white as driven snow, her eyes the deep blue of thick ice. He swallowed hard, hands gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white

"Sh-shepard?"

"Hey, David. Long time no see."

"Y-you're dead, Shepard."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. I got better." She quirked a smile at him, the one that she used to use back on the Normandy. He remembered that smile all too vividly. "Listen, I've got a huge favor to ask. I need to meet with you and the Council, in a closed-door meeting, face to face. At the earliest opportunity." She quirks that grin again, the one he knows means trouble for -somebody-. "If you can, see if you can get them there without telling them why, alright? I want to see that idiot Sparatus choke on his own mandibles when he sees me."

Anderson couldn't help but chuckle. "Want me to call Udina in?"

Shepard's grin turned into something fiendish. "Ohhhh, please tell me he has his own desk!" She sighed, "No, probably best to not inform him. He'd probably leak it if it would advance his career, and there's many different factions out for my hide this time. Old and new." Her eyes seem to bore into his. "The Reapers haven't gone away just because we killed their vanguard, Councilor. In fact, they're probably pretty pissed about that. More, entire human colonies are vanishing in the Traverse, and I have reliable intel that it's the same bastards that killed me doing it. The name "The Collectors" ring a bell, Councilor?"

Anderson frowned. He had heard vague rumors about the fabled race, but nothing definitive. According to his intel, they'd occasionally show up out of the Omega-4 relay and trade tech for certain specimens. Though, come to think of it, what -type- of 'specimens' was never specified...

"I've heard something, but nothing conclusive."

"I'm pretty sure they work for the Reapers, Councilor. More I am certain they're the ones responsible for an extremely virulent and deadly plague that we barely contained on Omega. Just to give you an idea of how nasty this thing was, it can infect asari, quarian, turian, krogan, any race that -isn't- human. And it causes excess mortality, according to my biochemist friend. That means, whoever catches it, if they don't get the antidote, is going to be coughing out their lungs within days, and dead inside a week. Doesn't seem to matter what race they are either, as long as they aren't human."

"Jeezus, tell me this thing is contained."

"Contained and treated. My friend, who shall for the moment remain nameless, has dispersed an airborne cure, so those people we can't get to physically will get treated, but it was a bit of a close call. And I have documented evidence that the Collectors were behind it."

Anderson rubbed his hands together, "If they've become so bold as to infect an entire space station with a cross-species plague, I'm sure the Council will become interested. What they'll do about it is another matter, since we-"

Shepard cut him off, "I'm almost certain they've stolen the bodies of every last man, woman and child from every one of those colonies that have gone dark, Councilor. That's mass murder of a Council race's outposts. If -that- isn't enough to get their attention, I don't know what is."

"Yes, but the only colonies that have been attacked are ones in the Traverse. The Council has specified that it has no jurisdiction-"

"That's bullshit and you know it, David. If they keep this up there won't be a human left alive outside Council Space, and there's precious few of our colonies inside Council space. And if the Collectors -are- working for the Reapers, they won't stop with the colonies in the Traverse. We need to mobilize -now-, before things get worse."

"You're preaching to the choir, Shepard. I'll see what I can do to get the council together, but I can't promise anything. How shall I contact you?"

"I'll call back in twenty four hours, Councilor. Let me know then." She grinned slightly. "And Anderson? It's nice to see you again." She hesitated, then that wicked, wicked grin, "Introduce me as 'an emissary from the Geth Collective'. That'll get their attention..." With a wink and a sparkle, the dead woman vanished from his comm.

Anderson leaned back in his chair, letting out a gusty sigh. He'd have to vette that transmission to determine if there was someone else behind Shepard's face, but from her manner of speech and vehemence, he was pretty sure that was indeed his former XO. His lips twitched. It would almost be worth the trouble it would cause to play that conversation for Udina...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Well, here's chapter 10! I admit, I've been sorta working on this bit for a very long time, and I've got more such in-the-works stuff, though not consecutive, unfortunately. In any event, don't get used to the fast update, I'll be posting when the chapter's finally written. I don't work ahead so as to post chapters on a timetable, you guys get my work as soon as it's done. I hope you enjoy it! Also, due to a number of people being confused about what Chapter 9's top section was about, I've edited it slightly to make it a bit clearer. I hope it's less ambiguous now! ^^

As always, pleasepleaseplease Read & Review!


	11. Chapter 11

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

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><p>Anderson cleared his throat as the other councilors enter the private conference room. The chamber had the very latest anti-survielance security, up to and including being actually situated inside a vacuum flask accessable via only one airlock, and that guarded around the clock. "Thank you for meeting with me Councilors. I know it is late but something important came up."<p>

Sparatus, snorted. "What can it possibly be this time, Anderson? We are very busy and cannot be whisked off at a moment s notice just for your benefit!

Tevos turned slightly, giving the turian a gentle calming motion with one hand. "Sparatus, please. If what Councilor Anderson has to say is important, then we should let him speak."

The turian councilor grumbled incoherently, but nodded. The asari gave Sparatus a reproachful look, quieting him, and then gestured for Anderson to continue.

Anderson cleared throat again, "As I was getting to We have an emissary from the Geth that wishes to speak with us."

The turian's eyes blazed. "The Geth?! Really? After all we did to drive them out of our system they wish to negotiate?"

The salarian councilor spoke softly, almost to himself, "A Geth emissary? Intriguing "

Tevos gave both of her other colleagues a gently quelling look, then faced Anderson again. "We weren't even aware the Geth had such a thing. Are you sure this is legitimate, Councilor? What if they try to attack us for revenge?"

Anderson's lips quirked ever so slightly. "Trust me Councilors once you see who it is you will want to listen." He turns and motions for someone to step forward out of the shadows at the back of the dimly lit room.

Shepard stepped out of the shadows, a lopsided smirk crossing her features at the dumbfounded look all three alien councilors gave her. Double-takes that good usually do not happen more than once in a lifetime, and here were _three_ of them! Poor Valern seemed to be trying to calculate the exact details of her facial anatomy, Tevos's eyes were narrowed slightly, one finger to her lips, and Sparatus...

The poor turian looked as if the annoying foe he vanquished and buried has turned up at his victory celebration. After a long pause, he was the first to regain the use of his voice, "You expect us to believe this is Commander Shepard?"

Shepard glared at the turian councilor. "My ship was attacked and I got spaced. I crashed on a frozen wasteland of a planet where I spent the better part of a year and a half being -resurrected- and trying to figure out _who I was!_ I was utterly alone, friendless, not even knowing who I was, until a Geth I named Legion found me and helped me recover my memory. So if you want to say I'm not me, then come over here, and say it to my face."

Tevos sighed, "Commander, I apologize for this but you must know that it has been two years. We have no idea what happened to you. So if you could explain it to us, then we can move on to more pressing matters."

Shepard grumbled, glaring at the three councilors, then sighed. "Fine. I was still alive when I impacted, though badly burned and starting to freeze. I landed right smack on top of a here-to-fore undiscovered relic of a civilization that predates the Protheans by several cycles. I'm not sure how many times the Reapers have cleansed the galaxy between them and the protheans, but it's been several. My body was almost totally destroyed, and my mind was shutting down, so the inhabitants of the Spire downloaded my mind while they rebuilt my body from their own substance. Legion tells me it's some sort of electrolytically-balanced crystal based on a few elements he hasn't seen before. The upshot is that I'm harder than steel and faster than anyone else in this room."

The turian scoffed and crossed arms, leering down at Shepard. "And you expect us to believe that? Where is your proof to back this wild testimony?"

Tevos spoke, "Yes that doesn't seem probable..."

The salarian proposed, "Might I suggest a demonstration?"

Shepard's fist slammed into the table with enough force to crack it. She was _seething_ at this flagrant doubt about her veracity. "_That_ demonstration enough for you?!" Her eyes were solid glowing portals into the heart of a star. "When are you going to get it through your _thick skulls_ that I am not lying to you! I have _never_ lied to you, and I'm not about to start now. There's too damn much at stake, here. The Reapers are going to wipe out all sentient life in the galaxy, unless we do something about it." She took a deep breath, held it, closed her eyes, and let it out as she relaxed her hands, obviously trying to calm herself down.

Sparatus snickered softly. "Oh yes. The 'Reapers'... We haven't found any proof to substantiate that there are more like Sovereign. As far as we know that ship was the only one."

Shepard snapped again. "It's not just a myth, you over-plated tin-can, it's a Spirits-blasted _fact_! Your worlds will _burn_. Every last turian. Every last asari. Every last salarian and human will become _food_ for these things, unless someone performs an emergency cranial-rectal extraction and makes you idiots _look_ at the _evidence_!"

Anderson put a calming hand on Shepard's shoulder, "Shepard, you were the only person to have any contact with it and the beacon on Illos. We would only be acting on your blind faith..." He flinched slightly at the look Shepard through over her shoulder at him, withdrawing his hand at the menace in those glowing eyes.

Shepard took another deep breath, "So, the Vigil VI finally broke down. I assume you pulled enough of the wreckage from Sovereign out of the walls of this tower to make a fair-sized cruiser. Analyze _that_. That should prove the geth didn't build it."

Valern spoke this time, "The materials and compounds used to make that are nothing we have on record. We can't find anything that suggests it was made by any of the known races, and the geth were unaccounted for 300 years commander. How do we know they could have pulled their resources and crafted such a ship?"

"I've spoken to the Geth, through one of their terminals. They acknowledge that the Reapers' technology is far more advanced than anything they have access to."

Sparatus snorted, "You made your career hunting the geth, now you want us to believe that you re -negotiating- with them?"

Shepard smirked back. "It kind of helps to come to your senses on board a Geth platform and have one talking to you, yes. I didn't have a gun at the time, and I figured listening was a more constructive option than dismemberment."

Anderson chuckled. "Typical Shepard."

Shepard smirked slightly and gave a little bow to Anderson. "I aim to please, Sir."

Tevos was silent a moment, then looked to the other two alien councilors. "I'm sorry. But after hearing everything and reviewing it over, we can't bring ourselves to cooperate with the machines that have threatened to destroy us. And with little proof for us to believe you are who you say you are...one of our operatives will have to remove you."

She motioned with her left hand, activating her omnitool. The door behind her hissed softly as it opened. Shepard was beside herself. "You're _arresting_ me? Of all the flaming _stupid_ things to do! The last time you tried something that asinine, I had to commandeer the Normandy and head to Ilos myself, outrunning the entire Citadel fleet, mind you, and-" She cut off as the door opened and a figure stepped through. A lithe figure almost her height, clad in a flat black bodysuit that was clearly only a shade or two away from Spectre-grade light body armor. Shepard frowned slightly. Something about the figure was familiar.

That sense of familiarity heightened dramatically when the figure, her full helmet completely sealed, took one look at her and hissed. "_You_!"

There was no warning, no preamble, no dithering with half measure. Next instant, Shepard was struck by a high-powered Warp, the conflicting dark-energy fields trying to tear her substance into its constituent atoms. The pain was _excruciating_. She had not felt this bad under the field when she was still flesh and blood. The follow-up Throw felt like the impact of a god's fist, hurling her against the far wall hard enough to dent it.

She slumped to her knees and shook her head. The residual pain from the Warp field still tingled and shuddered through her, small arcs of electricity sparking off her fingertips. She raised her head at the charging figure. "So that's the game you want to play, huh? Fine."

* * *

><p>Shepard uncoiled like a striking snake, spinning around once, and bringing her clenched fist around in a backhand that smashed right into the figure's belly. She followed up with a fluid motion, bringing her leg up and smashing her knee into that same point. The figure was already staggering back, which made the third strike miss impacting her helmet by a hair. Shepard snarled. Finally, a target on which to vent her frustration.<p>

She slid into the fifth balanced form. Poised on the balls of her feet, fists close to her center of mass, she was prepared to snap in any direction, to block or attack. The figure recovered fast, she had struck with about human strength, but far faster than any human could, and of course, her body was far harder than mere bone. "Feeling lucky, punk? Bring it!"

The figure let loose a wordless cry, hopping forward and spinning into a brutal roundhouse to the temple. Shepard leaned back slightly, then snapped her torso to the same side that the kick was going, giving it a hearty assist. Her opponent spun rapidly, off balance, but recovering fast, only to lash out with a rapid flurry of punches.

Well, rapid for a flesh-and-blood creature. Shepard had grown used to Legion's blindingly fast flurries, and each blow landed not on Shepard's torso, but neatly on an outstretched palm. The black-clad figure howled in frustration, and Shepard was hurled backward from her with bone-crushing force. She slammed into the wall again, and this time pinned there as the figure held out her hands, using a directed, continuous Throw. It was an advanced technique, not as power-hungry as the Singularity, but requiring more concentration to keep the field going.

Shepard was in agony. For the first time since her transformation, she felt real pain. Not the pain of a broken bone, she'd gotten used to that back when she was human. No, this was soul-deep. A draining, ravening force that felt as if it set every nerve on fire, gnawed her bones, and sent ice through her veins. Nothing compared. Shepard let out a low grunting groan as she slowly levered herself off the wall, staggered, and took another step. Her eyes were nearly shut, her concentration total. She couldn't see herself, and wouldn t care if she did. Her eyes were giving off a blue-white radiance, her whole body becoming suffused with the electric light that powered her.

With a howl of defiance, of both the pain and her lot in life, Shepard stretched out a hand. She couldn't see the figure's eyes, nor did she hear the cries of the Councilors. She only felt the pain, and her vision had excluded all else but her target. Her tormentor.

Thunder lived.

The bolt wasn't nearly as powerful as the ones she had fed into the gunship. Even so, it still held enough power to lash through the air, and into her target. Only her target was in motion! She was dipping, weaving, leaping to one side, even as Shepard concentrated on focusing the bolt. Her strike was true, but only barely. Instead of hammering home into the target's chest, it struck her knee as she danced aside. The uncontrolled bolt exited her boot a splintered second later, and the target's scream joined Shepard's in agony.

The pain vanished. Shepard staggered and almost fell, gripping the table edge to steady herself as the target stumbled. Using what leverage she had, Shepard hurled herself over the table at her target, both feet extended to catch her just in the center of the chest as she rose. The target slammed into the wall, and before she could recover, Shepard was beside her, bringing her fist around in a powerful stroke. A similar one had stunned a krogan. This one shattered the helmet's faceplate.

What Shepard saw within brought more ice to her heart than her year and a half on Alchera.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> DUN DUN DUNNNNNN! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I thought it would be better to get out -something- this month instead of leaving you guys hanging for -another- month. v.v I'll try to be more regular about this, I promise! Unfortunately, I seem to be running out of ideas. Any of you got some lying around? ^^; Until next time, PLEASE, read and review!


	12. Chapter 12

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

**A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel**

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> My most humble apologies for not getting this out sooner, but my Beta has poofed. Again. I figured it was better to at least post what I had, rather than waiting _another _three months before posting. Anyone out there willing to give it a try, please, please, please, gimme a poke!

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><p>Council Operative Liara T'soni pointedly did not wince as she limped down the corridor towards the holding cell. The imposter had been led away docilely enough, so they said, and locked up in the most secure holding cell that C-Sec owned. Hermetically sealed with it's own air supply, magnetic locks and temperature-sensitive fusing deadbolts, the cell didn't resemble a prison cell so much as it did a bank vault. Liara nodded to the man on duty at the outer perimeter station. She was scanned, checked, forced to divest herself of all weapons, and even frisked before allowed past. The inner perimeter guards were in full combat armor, weapons locked, loaded, and ready to be used the instant (if ever) the prisoner escaped the supposedly escape-proof cell.<p>

This particular cell had stood empty since the last Krogan Councilor had walked out of the Council. Shortly after, the Krogan Rebellions had begun, and the council no longer had authority to imprison rage-maddened krogan battlemasters. Soon after, there was no cause to imprison them, even if they did have the authority.

Liara nodded to the two men on duty and moved to the closed-circuit terminal to the only vid pickup inside. The imposter sat against the far wall, exactly as they had described to her when she woke in the infirmary. Slumped, staring sightlessly at the door. Liara couldn't quite suppress the involuntary shiver. She looked like an automaton that had had it's control wiring shorted out. Utter immobility of an object in the shape, if not hue, of a living, breathing woman. Not breathing now...

Liara's eyes narrowed slightly. She -had- to know. Had to. How she had gotten everything so -perfect-. Others had tried. The second to claim to be Shepard returned got thrown through a balcony's protective force screen and plummeted eighteen stories. After that, she had been forcibly committed to the Serrice Central Hospital, for psychiatric treatment. She spent nearly six months there, and afterward, once she had been on her own without an incident for a full month, had been approached by Councilor Tevos herself.

She wasn't a Spectre, but perhaps the next best thing. A totally deniable asset, should her mission go catastrophically wrong. It had appealed to the darkness in her soul, and she had agreed. After a year of constant, almost brutal physical, biotic and psychological training, ranging from krogan battle practices to the High Arts of the Asari, she was perhaps the most highly trained asari commando of her generation, capable of killing without thought or remorse, but able to tap into the wellspring of pain and rage that was all that was left of her heart. She glared into the monitor and spoke just three words to the guards.

"Open it up."

They hesitated, then one nodded. They both slid physical keys into their respective slots, then twisted in unison while Liara tapped a 16-character code into the terminal. The door gave a massive hiss as the hermetic seal was broken, then hummed softly as the bolts were retracted. It parted in the center and irised open to admit the asari.

* * *

><p>Shepard stared blankly into space. She had hurt Liara. The image of that rage-distorted face going flaccid and limp under her fist played on endless repeat in her mind. She couldn't stop it, didn't -want- to stop it. She had -hurt- Liara. Perhaps even killed her. Her heart would have shattered, had it been something as frail as mere glass. She had shut down entirely after that sight. Done what they told her to do, gone where they had told her to go, and sat limply in this place once they had finished stripping her down to her shorts and tank top. She had hurt LIARA.<p>

Something moved in her vision. She ignored it. Nothing mattered anymore. Her mind kept showing her the face of the woman she had loved more than life itself, going still as death beneath her own hand. booted feet in her line of vision. not important. The sensation of impact as her fist smashed through the metaglass of Liara's helmet. Her hand would have twitched, had she the mental energy to make even that slightest movement.

A voice. A heart-stoppingly familiar one.

"Tell me how you did it."

Shepard's eyelids closed for the first time in uncounted eternities. Liara.

"I am so. So sorry, beloved..."

The fist smashing into her temple was unexpected, but she took the blow as her due. Liara hissed and shook out her hand. "Tell me how you got her appearance so exact! Even to that dimple in her cheek. No one else ever got that right."

Shepard's eyes snapped open and her hand reached out to clamp vice-like around her beloved's bicep. Her own voice sank to a threatening hiss. "Others. Others have tried... Tried to be me? To -you-?"

* * *

><p>Liara's first pained gasp was cut off by the -fire- in the imposter's eyes. Fierce, burning rage, a rage so deep and deadly it seared even her withered and blackened heart. She twisted her arm, trying to free herself from the imposter's grip, but the blue-skinned hand clamped down with a strength that belied it's seeming frailty. The imposter hissed again, "They tried to get to you by pretending to be -me-?"<p>

Liara found herself answering before she quite knew what was happening. "Yes. First time was just a month after you- After Shepard died." She corrected her momentary blunder and glared harshly. "The second was just a week later. The T'soni name had been famous for centuries before I was born, and even my mother's fall couldn't bring it down. I was definitely someone to know." She spat the words bitterly. "I went into therapy after that incident."

Her words trailed off as the witchfire burning in the imposter's eyes banked to a sullen ember, then went out. The look that was left was heartbroken, utterly devastated. A raw, suppurating wound of the spirit, bare and vulnerable.

"I never meant to leave you, Liara. Even when I couldn't quite remember who I was myself, I kept seeing your face in my mind... I carved it into a mountain my third month on Alchera, just so it would go away. It never did, not ever." The imposter's words -had- to be lies. Had to be. Shepard was -DEAD-. She had been spaced, and remnants of her armor had been found on Alchera just two weeks after the Normandy had been wrecked. Liara had -so- wanted to be on that expedition, but as it was into the Terminus Systems, she had been denied. And when the report came back, she had tried to go on her own. After that, doubts about her sanity had been raised, and the incident with the two imposters had solidified them.

She wrenched her arm away, staggering slightly as she came to her feet. "We -will- find out the truth, you know. We -will- find out who you really are."

the imposter gave a sort of wry chuckle, one that Shepard had used to make when something both sad and amusing occurred. "One can be told the truth from dawn to dusk, but if one takes the truth for lies, one will never know the truth." her head snapped up, and she was on her feet so fast, Liara involuntarily stepped backward.

"Meld with me, Liara. That will show you the truth. No human could fake her memories to a skilled asari, and if you don't want to do so yourself, have someone you trust do it, but please, please Liara, let me prove myself to you." The words were spoken in such a heartfelt tone, she almost consented instantly. But harshly-taught prudence won out, and she stepped closer to the door.

"I'll leave that to your interrogators. The Asari have some...not so gentle methods of probing the mind. A simple meld wouldn't access your deepest mind anyway, and that is where your true secrets will lie." She turned to step through the door.

* * *

><p>Shepard couldn't let her go, not like this, not on that note. Such suspicion wasn't like her Liara, but she could see, could tell just by looking at the young woman, that Liara had been reforged in the ashes of her former life. So, she did the only thing she could think of that would prove herself to the one who held her heart.<p>

"Liara... Embrace Eternity."

* * *

><p>Liara stiffed as she heard the words, twisting back with a snarl on her lips, only for her eyes to widen in shock. She -felt- the impact of another mind against hers, some sort of energy field wrapping both of them tightly. The guards outside were shouting, but the words were distant and remote. The imposter had crossed the cell in one stride, her hand upraised to cup the asari's cheek. Tingling forced it's way into her skin, forcing a link of her nervous system to that of the imposter.<p>

It was like opening a door and stepping into the heart of the sun.

The imposter's mind was a blur of frenetic, never ceasing activity. Voices spoke, shouted whispered, each individual and distinct, but all -hers-. Images roiled and flickered, here, there and everywhere as the Meld cascaded through her thoughts, overwhelming her defenses despite her rigorous training. The imposter's mind just moved too -fast- to counter.

And then, she was within the Merge. One mind, one heartbeat. An image of herself in armor, being told to get to an escape pod. Now, we don't have time to argue. Shepherding in several crew and hitting the jettison button. Stepping through the roofless wreck of the CIC, in through the barrier curtain that kept Joker shielded despite the escalating damage to the ship. Shoving the pilot into the last escape pod and touching the button in freefall just as another explosion sent her hurtling into space. Turning to see the rising world beneath her, and hearing the hiss of her escaping air. Flames. Defiance

Wandering aimlessly amid a frozen wasteland, trying to remember where she was and why she was here. Trying to find a purpose. She -had- to have a purpose. She didn't know why she knew that, but she did. So. Purpose. She had buried the remains of the people she found in the wreck, but she didn't know why she had to. She felt very strange amidst the wreckage, so she had left. Walked for many light-dark cycles until she found a place to be. Eventually, as she began to remember things, she practiced. She wasn't sure why she had to practice what she remembered, but she knew she had to practice, so she did. It was maddeningly frustrating.

Then, the creatures began to arrive. It was just two at first, but they had hit her from a distance, so she fled into the blizzard. They hadn't followed. Then others came, ones with louder fists, and she had fought back. She buried their bodies too. Then the shiny one arrived, one who had tried to talk, not fight. She listened, learned, and at last, remembered.

Liara staggered back, tripped over the edge of the door and fell. She stared dazedly up at the glistening figure above her. Shepard. It was, indeed, Shepard. 'By the Goddess... What have I done...?'

* * *

><p>Councilor Tevos heartily wished she could wear her old commando leathers for this little excursion. A full robe was so restrictive when one was going into a possible fistfight, but decorum required a Councilor to be attired in something other than fighting fatigues. The outer perimeter guard snapped to attention so hard the former commando was bemusedly surprised she didn't sprain something. The guard looked a bit confused. "Councilor! We weren't expecting you!"<p>

Tevos's brow furrowed slightly. "Did my Operative not specify that I was coming to observe the interrogation?"

"No, Councilor, she merely requested access."

This was troubling. Liara was a superb operative, well versed and cunning, with the quick mind of a youngster and the insight of a matriarch. She could cut to the heart of the problem as easily with words as a knife. But she had always been a bit unbalanced when it came to her lost lover. "Show me in."

The guard hurriedly requested relief from the Councilor's guard and led the way in. The scene they found was quite different from any they expected.

A shimmering bubble of force surrounded the two figures just inside the open door of the cell. The inner guards had their assault rifles aimed, but to judge by the bullet scars on the back wall, the bubble was just as effective as a Barrier at deflecting their rounds. The unknown had her palm to Liara's cheek, the young asari's eyes open wide, her lips parted, her eyes the deep black of a very deep meld. Then, just as the councilor's party arrived, the link was severed, and the young asari staggered back and sat abruptly, staring up in shock at the slick-surfaced figure.

The two had eyes only for each other, and Liara's voice was only barely audible, full of hope, joy, and an overarching sorrow and shock that touched the matriarch's soul. "Shepard...?"

Tevos thought, 'This could be...problematic.'


	13. Chapter 13

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

**A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel**

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

AN: The ^^^ symbol signals a beginning and end of a flashback

* * *

><p>"Shepard… Shepard, it's really you!" Liara squealed joyfully as she burst to her feet. She hugged Shepard tightly, never wanting to let go again. After a few moments of the hug, Liara looked up into Shepard's eyes with hope and regret.<p>

While Shepard and Liara were embracing each other, Councilor Tevos just stood there, wondering how she was going to control the situation, now that her operative seemed to have decided that this is the real Shepard, and not another doppelganger.

"Have Operative T'Soni sent to my office when she's done," was all she said to the cell guards before leaving behind the unknown and her operative.

* * *

><p>"I told you that it was Shepard!" boasted Councilor Anderson while staring down the other three Councilors. He was incredibly angry over the fact that these ungrateful ingrates decided that he couldn't spot a fake Shepard. He was also pissed over the fact that the others had a secret operative no one saw fit to tell him about.<p>

"We couldn't be sure of this Councilor Anderson. The story that she told and the abilities that she showed are clearly inhuman, so we can't presume that this is the same Shepard that was killed in action 2 years ago. For all we know this could be a Geth construct that was going to be used to attack the citadel, for all of the losses that they suffered at the hands of Spectre Shepard." Councilor Valern's diction was as clipped and precise as ever.

"There's not much we can be sure of concerning Shepard," replied Tevos in a distant voice. She had the look of a person that's a million miles away at the moment. She still couldn't get the images out of her head from her private talk with Shepard.

* * *

><p>After Shepard and Liara had separated from their reunion, a cell guard had come in and told Liara that she has been summoned to Councilor Tevos' office. With a longing look that showed a burning desire to stay and never leave Shepard's side, Liara left the cell area to talk with the Councilor.<p>

Once she was sure that Operative T'soni had left the cell block, the asari Councilor stepped out of the shadows to confront Shepard on her own. It was plain her best operative wouldn't be useful in the questioning of this Shepard lookalike. As she came into view, the guards that stood in front of the cell door snapped to attention, alerting Shepard instantly.

After the meeting with Liara, Shepard was in a good mood. Unfortunately, that vanished when she saw the indigo-skinned asari come into view by her door.

"You have some nerve." Shepard had to force the words out through clenched teeth, seething over their last meeting.

"I only did what I thought was in the best interest of the Council. For all I know you could have been another doppelganger."

"If it had been anyone else I would have chalked it up to you being a bitch, but using Liara just crosses so many lines!" Shepard practically roared. Once she had finished yelling, Shepard sat on the cot in the cell and watched the Councilor out of the corner of her eye. When she had gotten control of herself again, she spoke in a calmer voice. "So why did you come down here? Other than to trade barbs like old times?"

"I came down here to determine your real story, not the one that you told us in the council meeting." Tevos gestured to the cell guards to open the door. "Now, I won't be aggressive, but I won't be stopped by any barriers that you have in your mind." The asari approached the blue tinted human, her fingers flexing gently as she readied her mind for the meld.

"Are you going to believe what you see, or are you going to ignore anything that you don't agree with again?" Shepard's curt response was almost a snarl as she stood and watched the Asari Councilor. The guards had their guns up in case anything unexpected happened, but a glance at the back wall indicated how effective their guns might be. Shepard smirked, slowly shaking her head from side to side.

Tevos stopped as the sight of Shepard shaking her head, as if this human has an ace up her sleeve. "Want to say something before I find out the truth?" she asked with a stony look on her face.

At this comment Shepard stopped shaking her head and looked over at Tevos with a predatory glint in her eye. "No I'll just show you." That was all Shepard said before stepping forward at a remarkable speed and laying one of her hands on the side of Tevos' face. She spoke only two words, soft and low in the startled asari's ear. "Embrace Eternity..."

* * *

><p>Councilor Tevos was lost in her memories of the events that transpired in the holding cells, and having Shepard moved to a cordoned off section of the C-Sec Academy gym. She requested access so she wouldn't get antsy in the cell and do something destructive.<p>

"I still don't think that this is the real Shepard!"

That was all that was needed to bring Councilor Tevos out of her mussing and pay attention to the meeting, primarily the person that said it. "This is the real Spectre Shepard, Councilor Sparatus." Her voice was calm, almost serene, but broke through the shouts and venom like a laser through butter.

"What are you talking about? Last time I checked humans don't come back from the dead, and certainly aren't a different color!" Sparatus practically screamed.

Councilor Valern, having been surprisingly quiet during the argument finally spoke up. "From what I've read of human history, a human has come back from the dead before, and the color can be associated to extreme frostbite."

"That still doesn't explain where she's been and what she's been doing for the last two years!" Sparatus' reply barely concealed his startlement. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't the other Councilors realize that this _had_ to be a hoax?

"She explained it when we talked with her earlier; you just chose to dismiss it. Just like everything else that she has said and then proven true." Anderson couldn't help boasting. His eyes glinted a little as he at last saw victory over the overbearing turian.

"Still doesn't prove that this is the real Shepard!" was Sparatus' response, as if it settled the argument.

Tevos spoke again with that quiet calm voice, cutting through whatever else the overbearing turian has been about to spew. "I melded with Shepard to discover the truth of who she is and where she has been. This is the real Shepard, and she has told us the whole truth over her whereabouts in the past two years." Tevos pointed out. "Considering that one of our Spectres has come back to us, we should reinstate her status. All for?"

To answer the both the human and Salarian raised their hands along with her own. Anderson's hand shot up so fast he seemed like an overexcited schoolchild.

"Opposed?" Only one hand was in the air. "Well then it's agreed then that Shepard shall be reinstated with her Spectre status and released from holding."

"Now that this has been settled ill have Shepard summoned so we can finish our talks with her." Councilor Anderson said, activating his omni-tool and placing a call.

* * *

><p>After the mind meld with Councilor Tevos, Shepard was moved to the C-Sec Academy, a less politically ambiguous, but still secured location. Which was a good sign, meaning she wasn't still being considered a potential enemy agent.<p>

Shepard flexed again, then rested, the two burly C-Sec guards looking relieved as she let the 400kg weight rest back into the holder and slipped off the bench. She gave a faint smile as one of them offered her a towel, but took it and draped it over her shoulder. "Thanks. Got a heavy bag I can use?"

"Sure, just over there." The guard nodded to that end of the C-Sec gym. Fully stocked with weight and boxing training equipment, it was used almost exclusively by C-Sec officers to keep in shape. Shepard nodded her thanks and strode over. Still clad only in a shirt and shorts, she had the eyes of most of the gym's occupants on her. Mostly human males, but a large helping of turians and a scattering of asari rounded out the mix. In fact, the first time Shep had talked with one of them, the asari had assumed she was another asari, due to her skintone, until she had gotten a good look at her eyes and hair.

Shepard squared off, then began mercilessly pounding the bag. Every. Fucking. Time. She had something important to say to the Councilors, they always. ALWAYS! Dismissed her claims. And she was SICK. OF. IT. Noise levels in here had dropped when she entered, but now it was almost silent. She didn't care. She had to work out this rage before she broke something, and didn't want it to be one of these poor people. They hadn't done anything to deserve her ire.

But just as she was punching a hole in the bag, now that it had rolled up against the wall and couldn't escape, a new officer came into the room. He hesitated and waited nearby until he had her attention. "They will see you now," was the only thing he said before turning around and exiting the room.

As she cleaned her hands with her towel, she murmured her thanks to her spotters. "Now I've got to see what they, in their ultimate wisdom, have decided."

As she left for the changing room, the off-duty C-Sec officers looked to one another and gulped at the fact that she benched more weight than both of them combined. And _broken_ their training bag.

* * *

><p>"We called her a half an hour ago, where is she?" commented Councilor Sparatus in an irritated tone, which didn't surprise anyone in the room.<p>

"Captain Bailey said that she was on her way." Councilor Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Councilor Tevos suddenly looked over at the door to the room right before a knock came. "Enter."

The door opened showing only one person standing in the doorway. As Shepard entered and the door closed, she headed to the only unoccupied chair at the table. As she sat she said in a laughing tone, "Sorry, the elevator was even slower than usual."

With a sly smile on his face Anderson said, "Well. Now that you're here, we can start this meeting."

After a few moments of silence, Councilor Sparatus spoke up, "We called you here to let you know that we have decided on how to handle the situation that has arisen concerning your...return."

With a look of growing anger on Shepard's face, she responded, "My coming back from the dead counts as a 'situation' now?"

In response to Shepard's raised voice, Councilor Tevos raised her hands placatingly. "No. We called you here to let you know that we have come to a decision about your future as a Spectre, and what your current objective is right now."

Councilor Valern continued with, "We have decided to reinstate you. We understand something has been taking colonies in the traverse, and we would like this unexpected line of communication with the Geth Collective to continue."

"With this reinstatement, you will have to follow certain rules." Councilor Sparatus spoke up, "First; you are to confine your activity to the traverse. Second; you are to notify us on any new developments with the Geth. We want to alerted if they are going to try and attack us again."

"As I said before, the main Geth faction wasn't responsible for the attacks on Eden Prime and the Citadel 2 years ago. It was a rogue faction that followed Sovereign. I can try to work in the Traverse, but if my search goes into other territories, then I'll try to cause as little damage as possible. I also want my former team mate Liara T'soni to join me." Shepard crossed her arms, leaning back and giving the turian a hard, challenging glare.

"I'm sorry Shepard but Operative T'soni has already been sent onto her next assignment for the Council." Anderson stated.

After a beat, Shepard sighed and nodded, "Fine. But I want to be notified when she is back so I can ask her myself. Now, if you excuse me, I have to call my ship and have my armor sent up here. No offense, but I can't very well walk around the Citadel wearing these clothes that don't fit if I'm a Spectre."

* * *

><p>Garrus and Tali loitered outside the C-Sec entrance, chatting lightly about various aspects of how the Citadel had changed since the last time they were here. In truth, they were keeping an eye out for their other teammate, and trying not to panic over Shepard's cryptic message. "In C-Sec, fixed misunderstanding. Out shortly."<p>

The door beside Tali hissed open, and two C-Sec men stepped out. One of them nodded to Garrus, who gave a slight turian smile to his former fellow officer. Then Tali straightened as she spotted the third person. She was an asari, complete with blue skin and scalp and dressed in C-Sec off-duty fatigues, but unmistakably Shepard. She smirked and winked at Tali's reaction, murmuring a soft "I'll explain later" as she moved past.

Garrus and the thunderstruck quarian girl (after the turian prodded her into motion) slipped off after the three C-Sec guards, following the asari as she split off from the two turians.

* * *

><p>"Shepard, where among the stars did you get that...wig?" Garrus's look was quite comical, his mandibles spread quite wide for the normally stern turian.<p>

She laughed. "The idea came to me while I was working out. One of the off-duty guards mistook me for an asari when all she saw was my arm, and greeted me in their language. Since the Councilors decided to keep my returned-from-the-dead status under wraps for the moment, I thought it would be better to appear asari than have questions about what species I am floating around."

She sipped her drink, savoring the look of utter _delight_ on the turian infiltrator's face. Tali was hard to read without her helmet's light filters seeing under the quarian girl's faceplate. "Are you sure it's alright, Shepard? I mean... how'd they find something like that for you that fast...?"

"This?" she reached up to lightly stroke just under her 'scalp'. "They had it made from some hardened resin in an asari clinic on two hours notice. It's why there was that long wait after my message. Apparently, asari without their head-tentacles are about as noticeable as a human without an arm. Or a turian without one mandible." She smirked at Garrus. He gave her a buzzing snort in reply.

"Don't worry about it, Tali, I'll be back to my usual self back on board the Zero-Eight. We've got a bit of business to attend to out on Korlus."

* * *

><p>AN: My humblest appologies for not having this out earlier, but my beta and I had a bit of confusion over whether or not he still -was- my beta. ^^ Fixed now, and I hope you enjoy! As aways, read &amp; review!<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

Edited by Darman Sejuk

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Sirona<p>

Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams, recently put on extended leave to 'rest, relax, and get your head on straight, soldier', sighed and tried to do as ordered. The word had come down from On High. Admiral Hackett himself had cut her orders. That made trying to take her mind off the sights, smells, and sounds of those moments on Eden Prime an official order.

She had suppressed her own feelings on the matter since the geth attack, but... Well. Watching as each and every one of your unit was wiped out does things to a human psyche, especially when those fellow soldiers were like a second family to you. Ash had managed to keep her head together throughout the campaign against Saren, but had started to get a bit flaky during the mopping up operation, and had broke down in the middle of Shepard's funeral. She had been ordered to a treatment center to get herself evaluated, and the psych docs had diagnosed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. She clenched a fist. How the fuck was she supposed to fight an enemy she couldn't see, worse, one that was inside her own head.

Shepard had been the capstone, the linchpin that held her together. After her own unit had been wiped out, Shepard had taken her under her wing. Shepard had given her a reason to turn outward, rather than inward. A reason to fight. Not that she needed another reason to slaughter those synthetic bastards, not after watching the way they-

She had to stop thinking about it. Drinking helped, but she was under strict orders not to take alcohol, lest she wind up listed as 'unfit for duty' and discharged. She wondered how Shepard had dealt with what she had seen and done on Mindoir. She had heard tales and rumors of how bad it had gotten on the colony world, one of the first to be hit by Batarian slavers. Supposedly, Shepard had enlisted as soon as she got out of rehab, but she wasn't sure how the woman who had grown to become the Savior of the Citadel had dealt with seeing her entire family either massacred or dragged away as slaves.

Ash almost missed the chirp from her omnitool indicating an incoming message. She set her glass down (water, not vodka, as much as she wanted it), and checked her inbox. Just two messages, one saved, the order from the Admiral's office. And one unopened one. Odd. It had no 'From' tag. Ash had learned a thing or two about electronic warfare, first from Garrus, then from Tali. She booted up a customized virus-scanner the young quarian had given her as a birthday present last year, and made certain the message was clean before opening it.

The message was text-only, a bit fuzzy around the edges too. That was worrying. That particular fringe-pattern indicated it had been washed through at least one anonymizer account, so tracking it back was going to be a bitch. Then the words, hovering in soft, amber phosphorescence above her hand finally registered. The noncom's eyes widened and her hands began to shake. What the _fuck_!

She immediately began a backtrace, putting in a call to her contact at the clinic. She'd let Sergei have a crack at tracing it. Her hands were still shaking as she forwarded the message, contents and all, to the cybercrime officer. She _had_ to know what this meant. If this was a joke, someone was going to be snickering until a ton of bricks landed on his head, in the form of one seriously pissed-off Marine.

She couldn't take her eyes off the message, still hovering over her left forearm. She almost spilled her drink as another wave of shuddering rippled through her. She at last shut off the message, turned off her omnitool and hurled it across the room. Rubbing her eyes in the darkened apartment, but the words would haunt her throughout the sleepless night:

"Rise from the misery that's shadowing your life;

Rise from your lethargy and face the coming strife;

Cast aside your doubt and grief that lurks within your soul;

For the Phoenix has arisen and the Shepard is her goal."

* * *

><p>Omega<p>

Deep, loud and distracting. That was the only thing that Miranda Lawson cared about at the moment. As she looked at the bottom of her now empty glass of some alien drink that she couldn't remember the name of at the moment, the memory of the encounter with Shepard on Freedom's Progress still haunted her. Even with her degrees on biology and biochemistry she couldn't explain what had happened to her and probably didn't want to know.

As she sat at the bar drinking her worries away, she noticed a dealer selling something that if she's hearing right over the music will "take all her worries away". She had one thought run through her mind before downing the rest of her drink, stood up unsteadily, and started for the dealer.

As she found a quiet corner to enjoy the drug that one thought kept running through her mind. As she placed the injector against her skin and injected the drug into her system her final thought was, "Please let me forget her face".

* * *

><p>The Zero-One-Three<p>

Shepard sat on her couch, one hand resting on the armrest, the other raised to her cheek. From time to time, her gaze would drift to the hand-calligraphed piece of paper on the end table beside the couch. No bed in here, she didn't sleep anymore. She mused, contemplative and somewhat melancholic. She had had something like an epiphany a few hours ago. An entire lifetime had socketed home, had come into full focus, as crystal clear as her own memories, but

clearly separate. It had taken quite a bit of willpower to see the memories through to the end, and not simply try and blank them out like her human mind wanted to.

Anvektoruus of the Vejsuuran clan had been a Prothean warrior monk, of the Kuuros-Ahkt sect. Once the prothean guardians of justice, they had become an aesthetic order many millenia ago as the Empire outgrew the need for specialized hand-to-hand combat. Over time, the Kuuros-Ahkt had changed, becoming the elite warrior Path within the Imperial society, though nowhere near the rarefied heights of the Inner Court or the Imperial Throne. Anvek has been chosen

for this honor early in his life, and he had excelled in the disciplines, both mental and physical, needed to master the higher orders of his chosen Path.

Then he had done something that few Kuuros-Ahkt had done. He had taken a mate. Sekuuvnusraht of the Asvetiiris clan came to his monastery a supplicant. And stayed as the mother of his children. The pair enjoyed their lives, spent in quiet meditation or contemplation, and their three children had grown, knowing that though Father didn't show it often, he did love them deeply. Then, the raiders. Finding his wife and children among the bodies. His mind had snapped, and blood rained when he found those responsible.

Shamed by his lack of control, cast from his order and shunned by the society he had bled and suffered for, he retired to Kehk Almass, now known as Feros, to live out his life in self-imposed solitary confinement, in a time long before the spires of that world spread to cover the entire landscape. And there he had died, to be absorbed by the Thorian.

She glanced again to the paper, the stylus set beside it. She couldn't read it with certainty anymore, the language came and went with her immersion in the Prothean Cipher, but she was certain that it was written in High Prothean. 'Liara would have a field day with this,' Shepard thought, and sighed.

Just then, the door snapped open, and she lurched to her feet, but it was only Tali, dashing in and grabbing her friend's hand, "C'mon, Shepard, Garrus finally got the hologram generator set up!"

"Hologram generator! What hologram generator?" Shepard balked at the door, frowning at Tali for interrupting her.

"The one we got on the Citadel. C'mon, you always used to love movie night on the Normandy!"

Movie night. Gods, the memories that brought up. Joker had been in charge of the selection at first, until after the first disastrous choice, after which Chakwas was put in charge of gathering votes from the crew before getting the movie. It had been almost a weekly ritual, barring actual missions, for the few months they had been chasing Saren all over the frigging galaxy.

"What did Garrus scrounge up for us this time?" The last time Garrus had gotten his choice through, they had spent three hours shifting uncomfortably through a Turian movie about the Relay 314 incident.

"He, Mordin and I each got our own stuff. I think he went for some historical dramas."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Good, at least it isn't something we're likely to have a mutiny or a lynching over."

Tali giggled, "I think he did some digging through Human films."

Shepard perked up, reluctantly being drawn out of her quarters and through the Zero-One-Three's corridors. The latest iteration of the geth ship was bigger than the Zero-Eight on which it was based, having separate quarters for six guests in addition to a central briefing room / mess hall / CIC. Garrus was just putting the finishing touches on calibrating the generator on one of the walls, nodding to Shepard and Tali as the pair entered. Mordin was already at work getting some snacks served up in what could be loosely called a kitchen. The Salarian biochemist had proved to be a remarkably good cook, though Shepard was still of the opinion that he was testing out some sort of covert medical experiment.

"Ah, good, just in time." Garrus' damaged mandibles flared a bit. "Legion's got the fastest download speed I've ever run across. Probably not that surprising."

"What's on the menu this time, Garrus? Not 'Stand Your Ground' again."

His mandibles clicked once, "Not after the last time that bombed." He actually winked this time. _Been spending too much time around us humans_, Shepard mused.

"Nah, I raided ancient earth classics, pre-hologram stuff. I haven't actually watched them, but I saw the... trailers, I think you call them? Anyway, I got a trilogy of movies picked out, and I think Tali got two more. We can make a full night of it."

"Three movies? Five? That's not a night, that's a full day of it, Garrus." Shepard smirked, "At two to three hours per, five movies is anywhere from ten to fifteen hours."

Garrus' mandibles drooped slightly, "...Right, I hadn't thought of that..."

Tali gave a soft giggle, "It's a good thing it's morning, then."

Shepard realized when she'd been had. "Oh all right. I hope you've got enough grub going to keep us for a while, Mordin. This is going to take a while."

The Salarian's lopsided head bobbed energetically (how else?). "Sufficient nutrients prepared. Had to acquire special produce on the Citadel. Dextro-amino fruit smoothies available, mechanics of ingestion would preclude solid foods of large diameter." He nodded respectfully to Tali, who shrugged and squirmed a bit.

"As long as it isn't Loorva, I should be ok." Mordin nodded, turning back to his chemistry set / kitchen.

Garrus just shook his head, and chuckled quietly. "Well, Shepard, want to get started?"

* * *

><p>Later, Onboard the Zero-One-Three<p>

"I still don't understand why we had to watch that trilogy back to back, Garrus..." Tali huddled on the end of the couch Shepard had shoved into the middle of the room, so all three old friends could watch the movies.

Mordin sat to one side, still replaying selected scenes from the Michael Bay 'Transformers' trilogy, "Fascinating, knew human culture diverse, did not realize extent of imagination. Concept intriguing, but can see reasons for negative quarian reaction."

Garrus chuckled softly, "I wanted to get you out of that loop, Tali. I know you've been dithering inside over the fact that the geth seem to be friendly now. It's doing bad things to your mind, and you know how you can get when you can't figure out a problem. Maybe the geth really are being truthful about not wanting to fight anymore."

Tali shrugged, still with her arms folded and as far away from the Turian as she could get. Shepard couldn't quite suppress her grin at the sulky Quarian's attitude. "So, what's the last one?"

Garrus' mandibles flared and Tali squirmed, "I'm not sure how you'll like this one, Shepard, but..." The quarian tapped her omnitool, and the fanfare preceded the credits.

Shepard's eyebrow rose at the title. _"Citadel"? This had better not be what I think it is..._

* * *

><p>Still later, Onboard the Zero-One-Three<p>

"I do _NOT_ shake my ass like that!"

Tali and Garrus were both grinning wickedly, the quarian giggling uncontrollably at Shepard's reaction, and Garrus' mandibles spread so wide he was in danger of injuring himself.

"For crying out loud, I'm not _that_ much of a showoff!... Am I?" Garrus couldn't hold it in anymore, and burst out laughing, Tali slowly sliding sideways until she was resting against Shepard's side, giggling so hard she was almost wheezing.

"Alright, alright, laugh it up you two. I'll get my revenge later." Shepard reached out and, with pinpoint precision, started to tickle the young quarian just above her waist. The resultant squeal and breathless giggling provoked still more laughter from the Turian, and the two girls started wrestling as he quickly made room. Mordin, of course, took copious notes, and the two males exchanged commentary on the conflict between the two girls, which had spread to

cover the entire couch. Shepard proved unexpectedly ticklish just at the small of her back, laughing and giggling herself when Tali's nimble fingers tickled there, and the tickle fight went on until the commander flumped off the couch.

"Ugh. I yield, you win, Tali. ACK!" Shepard arched as Tali, now sitting prim and proper on the couch, landed both feet on the commander's back, making Shepard writhe and giggle breathlessly.

"Ha! got you right where I want you, you uncultured wretch!"

"Quititquitit, Taliiiiii!"

The laughter went on far into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Just a fun piece before the storm. Things are going to get serious again for Korlus, though, so hold onto your seats. Honestly, though, I'm finding my muse harder and harder to locate, but I'll do my damnedest to get this thing finished. It just may take a few years. *Sigh.* And while I forgot to mention it at the time, Darman Sejuk was mostly responsible for the scenes with the council in the last chapter. ^^ I found myself mentally unable to get into the mindset of the council, unable to think along those lines, and he delivered when and where I needed it. Kudos, Darman, and thank you.


	15. Chapter 15

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel, with assistance by Darman Sejuk

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>"Keelah," Tali mumbled while observing the docking of the Zero-One-Three with a geth carrier ship. They were in orbit over the planet Korlus. Next to her, Shepard was also watching, but the look in her eyes gave the impression that she was not really seeing the ships, but looking past them. Garrus stood behind, being the tallest there he could look over their shoulders. Mordin on the other hand was observing the Geth carrier's design and speculating on the development of the design.<p>

"It is impressive," was Garrus response to the young quarians comment.

As they drifted closer to the other ship, the whole group heard the hatch leading into the room open behind then. When they turned they saw their geth team member enter the room.

Legion smoothly entered the room before stopping a small distance from the group and simply stated. "We will be docking with the carrier to acquire a less conspicuous vessel for landing and extra forces to ensure safety.

* * *

><p>The Geth piloted Kodiak shuttle entered the atmosphere with the usual bone-jarring deceleration. The entire cockpit had been retrofitted with a geth-controlled mainframe, to allow the synthetic intelligences to control the organic-produced shuttle. The ground team was stonily silent as the crushing weight eased, Garrus getting his breath back first.<p>

"So why are we here anyway, Shepard?

Shepard turned away from looking out the side window to give the rest of her team a look. "We're here as a favor to the Krogan clans, and to relieve tensions between Tuchanka and the Council. We are to find and detain a Krogan warlord named Okeer and transport him to the Krogan capital for trial.

"Is there anything else? Mordin's reply was quick and terse as always.

"Well," Shepard glanced over at Legion and the six standard geth troopers standing silently on the other side of the shuttle, "Geth Intel suggests that Okeer has had contact with the Collectors.

Before Shepard could say anything else Legion shifted its head slightly and stated in its monotone voice; "Anti-aircraft emplacements detected along our approach vector. Prepare for chaotic conditions."

The team had less than a second after Legion finished before the shuttle lurched to the side. No organic pilot could have scored a way through the anti-aircraft flak, but the geth piloting programs did an admirable job. The attack came so suddenly that only the three Geth troopers were able to secure themselves before the concussive blasts rippled through the ship. A direct hit would have been rather fatal, even to the well-shielded 'combat cockroach'. As it was the detonations several meters away sent multiple shockwaves to bounce the un-secured occupants about like dice.

Shepard was the one to see it first. Three charges detonated, bracketing the shuttle on either side, and one above and behind them. The one on the port side wasn't close enough to do more than rattle them, and the one behind them was even further way, but the one to starboard was close enough to do some damage. The shockwave impacted the already-stressed shields and they failed with the characteristic feedback shattering sound. Garrus's head snapped up at that sound, knowing it for what it was.

But the shockwave wasn't done with them yet. It hit at precisely the wrong place, at precisely the wrong angle. the large hatch covering the main exit wasn't designed for the metal-deforming stress of AA-flack, and it tore loose with a sudden roaring shriek. The sudden drop in pressure blasted everyone in the cabin towards the opening, but the young quarian lost her grip on the safety rail just as Shepard was trying to grab at her.

As Tali started to be blown out of the shuttle, Shepard lunged from the nearby wall and grabbed her thin wrist. For a moment, they were face to face, faceplates almost touching as Shepard pivoted about that point of contact. Then Shepard's arm snapped, hurling Tali back through the shuttle hatchway and close enough to two of the geth troopers for them to grab hold.

For one fleeting moment it seamed that Shepard just hung in the air, staring in at her crew. For a moment she seemed to touch Garrus's eyes, giving him an order he couldn't ignore. 'Take care of her.' He couldn't reply, he didn't have time, and even as Tali began screaming her name, she was gone, plummeting towards the surface of the planet.

* * *

><p>She was falling. Falling. Falling! Her mind whirled as the winds buffeted her. Her eyes both saw and did not see the rusty brown landscape rushing towards her, both saw and did not see the shuttle, it's hatch blown clear by the lucky AA-shot, both saw and did not see a figure being yanked back from the edge by unseen hands. Her mind was whirling, spinning, stark, staring terror ripping free of it's cage and gibbering as it ran loose among her thoughts, scrambling them. She was vaguely aware of a scream that didn't come from the wind whipping around her, but the Terror was too great, too strong, to utterly overpowering. It wasn't Korlus she was falling towards, with it's endless plains of shattered starships, it was Alchera's vast, glare-white ice, and she wasn't falling from a mere few hundred meters, she was falling from -orbit-, and she was going to smash and fry and -die!-<p>

Shepard's eyes rolled up as the terror overwhelmed her reason, and a second later, smashed a new hole in the crater-pocked landscape.

* * *

><p>Tali was still and silent by the time the shuttle had dropped below the Ack-Ack cover, skimming in a wide arc as the synthetic pilot headed back towards where it had calculated Shepard would have impacted. Her movements were frenetic and jerky, but still controlled, leaping clear of the hatch before the shuttle had even touched down, scrabbling over rubble and already scanning with her omnitool for the unique power signature of Shepard's cryosuit. She had to have survived, she just -had- to. Garrus unlimbered his rifle even as he called after Tali, racing to try and keep up with the young Quarian, unheeded as Tali searched through the EM-scattering metalic rubble for her friend. And.. Perhaps more.<p>

'Shepard! Where are you!'

* * *

><p>He had finally found them. The pirates, scum, whatever you want to call them. Heavily armed and armored, but what did a Kuuros Master care for such things? His body was a living weapon, his mind keener than any sword, his strength unrivaled by any save the Founder.<p>

_Drop your weapons, and I will make your deaths quick_. The pirates, butchers, slaughterers of the innocent, exchanged a glance before opening fire.

'_Very well. I shall have my bloody revenge_,' he thought even as he snapped his body to one side, avoiding their aim and the crackling roar of their weapons. A hand snapped out, his power pulsing, and, as ever the Master of the Kuuros Ahkt had his weapon.

* * *

><p>All Tali could think of was finding Shepard. Scanning the area with her omnitool as quickly as she could while rushing through the labyrinth of decaying ships and trash was the only thing keeping Tali from going into a panic attack.<p>

Garrus was barely keeping up with the young Quarian as she ran ahead through the wrecks that surrounded them. The speed that Tali was moving through the obstacles in her path nearly stunned the Turian marksman. He was sure that she couldn t have the stamina in her lithe body to maintain the grueling pace.

Just as Garrus was about to drop from exhaustion when Tali halted right in front of him while she just stared at her omnitool. He almost fell over her, as she scanned rapidly about. As he was bending over to catch his breath from the run he almost missed her quite remark, before she took off again down a new path in the wreckage. As the Geth troops and Mordin continued on past him, he repeated what she had said.

"Oh Keela, she's alive!"

* * *

><p>They were quite well trained, these lawless butchers. But no mere man was a match for a master. His arm blurred as he brought his makeshift weapon about, his power pulsing and flaring as he brought his enemies to him. Constant motion, ever-changing momentum and vector. That was the secret of the Kuuros. Without even thinking of it, he arched, allowing a trio of shots to zip past him, then spun, the liquid stream of flowing light rippling along the length of his weapon even as his power worked. The length of shimmersteel rippled and danced about him, it's gyrations a perfect compliment to the rippling chaotic dance that was a Kuuros master's finest art. About him lay a circle of the dead and dying, even as his weapon whirled and hummed with the power of it's rotations, spinning end for end so fast that no blood stained it.<p>

* * *

><p>Mordin and the Geth troopers that had been fallowing Tali's rushed travel through the maze of metal plates at a decent pace, trying not to lose sight of the energetic Quarian. She frantically traced the unique energy signature that only Commander Shepard's hardsuit generators put out.<p>

After a few more moments of the quick pace they came to the young engineer. As they approached her side, they began to hear the noses of a violent battle in progress.

As they came abreast of Tali they realized that they were standing at a cliff's edge that overlooked what could be closely described as an arena. In the center of the arena was Shepard surrounded by easily a whole group of mercs wearing Blue Suns colors. This would have been alarming, if there weren't the bodies of possibly 2 more groups of the same mercs strewn around the area, very clearly dead.

As Tali, Mordin, and even the group of geth all stood there in surprise, Garrus finally caught up to then and spotted Shepard, just as she used an improvised weapon to nearly decapitate a Blue Sun merc charging her.

* * *

><p>There were only four of the butchers left, out of an even hrarz'a. Their faces were pale beneath their blue carapaces. It did not matter. his power forced their shields wide, and his weapon sought their lives. It was as it had been, in countless battles across the Empire. Ever and so did the Kuuros Dance. Rust-red streams pumped from torn limbs, and shattered joints lay at odd angles. Pulped skulls and broken, sunken chests as the quick, light steps of the Dirizhaal Danse picked a twisted, corkscrew path amongst the bodies. He had grown slow in his old age, but he was ever the best of them.<p>

The light rippled in a blurred smear as his power brought his weapon to a spinning shriek, whirling at his outstretched right hand. His left flared with power as he reached, grasping for the nearest of the butchers. Nevermore would these blood-seeking scum take another life. He spun. And the power surged. Another headless corpse to add to the pile. Their weapons were useless, the Master was quicker than both eye and mind. He hurled his weapon with the power, sending it scything through the last two to that side, even as his quick feet danced to the tattoo of the guns. He caught it again as it returned, and halted it's spin so fast it's tips glowed hot for an instant. He stood, eyes blazing with incandescent fury, his arm outstretched towards the last remaining butcher.

_Surrender, Ko-ax_. I will make your end swift. The butcher threw down his weapon, raising his hands, and babbling in terror. No doubt the feebleminded beast had never seen a true Master at work._ May your spirit find redemption in the Halls of Toil, butcher. May there you find mercy, for the Master has none to give_. His hand flared with the power, and the butcher's chest exploded in a shower of bloody chunks.

* * *

><p>The fall of the last mercenary seemed to break Tali out of the trance. She had stood stock-still, both awed and frightened at the sight of Shepard fighting the group of mercs. After a moment the young woman yelled the commander's name and started running down the side of the hill to the pit below.<p>

As Tali approached Commander Shepard, she took notice of the new arrival and shifted into a combat stance before giving the same warning that she had given to the mercs before.

Tali immediately stopped when Shepard s pose changed and started speaking in a language that the young quarian didn't understand. She responded in a worried tone, "Shepard, are you ok? Please, say something. Come on, it's me Tali."

* * *

><p>Anvek listened to the words of the unknown being but couldn't understand them. Something about them was maddeningly familar, as was the sight of this not-butcher before him. The more the creature spoke, the greater the feeling of sleep grew on Anvek's mind. Even as he fought to stay awake, he could feel something rise about him, lowering him into the arms of Nis, the Dreamer.<p>

* * *

><p>As Shepard woke, the first thing she noticed was that she was standing in the middle of a group of dead mercenaries. The second that her favorite quarian engineer was talking to her in a worried tone.<p>

Hoping to break the feeling of concern flowing off of Tali, Shepard cracked a smile and said the first thing that came to mind. "Have I been sleep-killing again?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Once again, my appologies for the long wait, people. I finally found my muse! Alas, she seems to be collecting plotbunnies for possible sequels, which is beyond annoying. I only just got the bunnyhairs off my shirt from this one! Aaanyway, please read and review!


	16. Chapter 16

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Jedore knew something was going terribly wrong. It wasn't irretrievable, yet, but it certainly looked like she had a major problem. Five long-patrols had gone dark, and one checkpoint had failed to check in. The krogan starting to wander out of Okeer's base were hardly tractable, killing anything and everything they saw with reckless abandon uncharacteristic even for krogan.<p>

"Kazorian. Get team Bravo scrambled, I don't like how the krogan are moving. funnel them towards points Gamma and Epsilon. They might slow down whatever's breaching our perimeter."

The scarred man nodded once, briskly, then moved off to carry out her orders. The man was calm, cool, and competent. Just what she required in an XO. Her previous XO had also fancied himself a ladies man, and had more than once attempted to get into her suit. Jedore's jaw clenched slightly, remembering how he had tried to dominate the diminutive woman. She had had the glorious satisfaction of watching his realization that he had vastly overstepped his boundaries. Just before she had blown his head off.

She stifled her sigh of pleasure at the memory and refocused on the here-and-now. She had troops to organize.

* * *

><p>"So you found no evidence at the colony. Again." The Illusive Man's eyes lay on his second in command like a titanic weight. Miranda had to fight the urge to squirm and wriggle.<p>

"No sir, we still haven't found any new evidence as to who has been abducting the human colonists in the traverse." Miranda managed to keep the slight quiver from her voice as she stood on the QEC. The real-time holographic communications array was about the only reason she had been allowed to take the new ship, still with construction crews aboard.

"Understood, still no word on the body of commander Shepard?" Responded TIM after he took a drag from his cigar.

"No sir, the trail just ends with the destruction of the Normandy over Alchera and the disappearance of several mercenary groups that traveled there." She managed to keep a straight face, but there -had- been what looked like an actual graveyard...

"Alright. I will have intelligence look into Shepard's location again, while you are going to collect a piece of cargo from the Prison Ship Purgatory. Is that understood?" He stated while making eye contact with Miranda. Even though it was a hologram that was transmitting the call from many light years away, Miranda could barely keep from flinching from the intense look that he was giving her.

"Understood sir. Operative Lawson out."

With that the hologram of The Illusive Man disappeared, Miranda held her composure for almost 4 seconds before she started twitching. She scrambled to pull something out of one of her belts pouches, finally managing to pull out an injector with a jerk. With a quick motion, she stabbed the needle into the vein in her arm and pressed the activator. The soft hiss from the injector provoked a similar sigh from the woman as the contents of the vial flowed into her arm.

Miranda steadied herself, back against the wall, waiting for the anxiety and tenseness to relax, giving a soft, almost sobbing sigh, struggling to get the image of the face of the _dead woman_ out of her mind.

* * *

><p>"Team Alpha ready, Commander." Jedore nodded. This had gone from being a mildly annoying day to a deeply frustrating one. First the missing patrols, then the checkpoints, now whoever was out there was mowing down her men at a frightening rate. She had kept Teams Bravo and Alpha in reserve, with Bravo at the main tributary, diverting the krogan off into the maw of the unknown, and Alpha keeping her personal bunker guarded. Still, she had lost close on fifty men already, and was down to about two-thirds strength.<p>

"If they make it to the tributary, call Bravo back to the second line."

She nodded and watched the display as her orders were carried out. Now was hardly the time to indulge, but the prospect of battle excited her, as it always had.

* * *

><p>It was all Lieutenant Commander Jeff "Joker" Moreau could do to keep himself from banging his head on the desk in front of him. The 24 reasons behind the impulse had just finished their latest training simulation and in his opinion they shouldn't be anywhere near a starship.<p>

"Alright people, move onto your next class while grade these simulation reports, expect the results later today." Was all he needed to say before the class started to clear out as if the fire alarm had gone off. As he took a deep breath and looked at his desk, he wished that he was once again behind the holographic controls of a high performance ship instead of the holographic controls of a grading program.

Once again, just like everyday for the last two years Joker wished that he could of pulled Shepard into the escape pod before had been blown into space.

He blinked as his console chimed, indicating an incoming message. He frowned. Normally, his omnitool would screen out such messages without him having to deal with it, while he was at the academy. Curious, he opened his mail program and frowned. No header. No subject, no sender either.

"Curiouser and curiouser..." he murmured as he scanned the file for viruses. You could never be careful enough, he learned that from Tali. Finding none, and he kept his firewall and virus scanner programs up to date as he could, he shrugged and popped open the message.

Only two lines confronted him, but he felt a chill race down his spine and curl a steel wire about his gut.

When ship is tossed, and choice is lost; within her haunting eyes. / When demon stalks and soldier balks; watch the Phoenix Rise.

The words echoed through his mind, and he thought, "Just what the fuck is _this_..."

* * *

><p>Jedore's headache was getting the better of her. It seemed -all- the krogan were starting to get dumped out at once. More than Bravo could handle alone, she had been forced to send Alpha to reinforce them, and then pull back the remains of both groups when the interloper team had passed. At least she -finally- had real intelligence on them now. A mixed group, turian, quarian, either an asari or human leading them, probably asari given her fluid movements. and backed up by a group of -geth-. Her head throbbed. She had had problems two years ago getting her forces to mop up small groups of them left over from the War, Geth were nothing to sneeze at, or turn your back on. But, apart from when Saren had teamed up with them, they hadn't been known to keep company with any save their own kind.<p>

Whoever this was, they were _bad news_.

* * *

><p>'Where is she?' was the thought that repeated itself in the mind of Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Alarei as he listened to the recording of the debriefing of the team sent to Freedom's Progress.<p>

The team commander continued, stating that while they had been planning on how to get past the defenses that Veetor had set up a in a panic. Then two groups of humans suddenly showed themselves, but seemed to be from different factions. As he listened to the team he grew concerned when they stated that one of the groups was from Cerberus. Remembering the attack by the human splinter-group, the Admiral started to worry about his daughter. His concern grew when they stated that Tali acted strangely with the other human that showed up, and he was quite startled when the human identified herself as the thought-to-be-deceased Commander Shepard.

As he listened he let out a breath of relief when whoever it was wasn't connected to Cerberus but threatened them quite strongly. As the debriefing continued Real grew skeptical about the battle with the YMIR Mech, but was surprised when the team stated that they had taken recording of the battle between the two and the outcome of it. What really surprised him was that the unknown was in the company of a Geth, not a captured and reprogrammed platform but a full Geth with all of its programs intact and willing to help Tali and the others rescue the young pilgrim.

Reaching the end of the debriefing the team noted that Tali decided to travel with Shepard and the Geth on the Commander's request. The father began to worry. his daughter was out there with a declared dead human and a highly advanced Geth that could talk.

As the recording ended the Admiral leaned back in his seat and quietly sighed "Just like her mother, always running off without telling me." His dextrous fingers twiddled rapidly through his omnitool displays, calling up a conference call with the other Admirals. If his little girl had found -the- Commander Shepard, he wanted to verify her safety in person.

* * *

><p>Jedore snarled as the bunker doors ground slowly open. She hadn't had to call a Blank Slate in close to a decade now, the call to destroy all evidence and evac. She was <em>above<em> such concerns, dammit, no puny group of six should be able to kick _her_, Jedore Karas off-world! To cap it all off, she had _finally_ traced the release signals to Okeer's own console! the thrice-damned krogan was dumping his own experiments on her, premature and improperly trained! Her teeth ground together as the command center was rapidly packed into the first shuttle. She'd see to Okeer _personally_.

* * *

><p>Shepard was in a good mood. For one thing, she found herself running through a few of the staff katas that Anvek had imprinted into the Prothean Cypher. For another, Garrus was proving -remarkably- snarky today, him and Tali bouncing the snark-ball back and forth with the gleeful ease of long friendship.<p>

"Are you _trying_ to commit suicide by suit puncture, or are you just fascinated by the color of krogan blood?" Garrus sounded honestly curious as Tali, giggling slightly, flipped him the bird. Quarian hands weren't normally designed for such, but Tali had learned from her experience with humans. The pair were apparently playing a game on who could kill the most, almost as a side bet.

Shepard's gun thundered once more, putting a gasping, foaming merc out of his misery. She turned and signaled the Geth to advance, one taking each side of the door before the third opened it for Legion. The unique geth had proved to be even better at managing subunits than a Prime, the squad of four moving like a long-drilled precision spec ops team. The tall geth strode through, swiveling at the movement, but holding fire.

"Shepard-Commander, we believe you would like to engage this one in speech."

Shepard raised an eyebrow and, with a mental shrug, stepped through. The asari crawling out from beneath the deck seemed familiar somehow, starting to speak even as she was dusting off her knees. "I shut down the security cams as soon as I saw it was you. Never thought I'd say it, but I'm glad it's you shooting up the place." She blinked, noticing Shepard was still keeping her under her gun. "Sorry, Rana Thanoptis. You let me go when you destroyed Saren's base on Virmire. Had to outrun a nuke in a utility pod, but it's still a second chance."

Shepard remembered her. Neuroscientist. Did studies on indoctrinated subjects to determine the cause and if there was any way to prevent it. "I assume you have a good reason for being here?"

Rana gulped and quickly reassured her, "Don't worry, I'm not wasting the chance you gave me. My work here - strictly beneficial. Not for the mercs. Jedore's on a standard power trip. But Okeer's trying to do something good. His methods may be a bit...extreme, but his hearts are in the right places."

Something about that rings a mild warning bell. "What's Okeer up to?"

The asari seems a bit hesitant, almost bashful. "It's...complicated. Jedore wanted a private army, but Okeer mostly ignores her, even if she is footing the bill. He's running the project with different goals. I created a mental imprint routine to educate his tank-bred, but most of them don't finish it. He dumps them for some reason." She shrugs, "He wants to help his people, but he's not going for numbers or a genophage cure. I don't really know what his end-goal is, I'm just helping as much as I can."

Shepard groaned internally. How could she have guessed... "Look, I appreciate that you're trying to turn your experience to good ends, but this isn't the way to do it. I don't usually give third chances, though..."

The asari nods, seeming almost cheerful now. "Don't worry, not that you've shown up, I'm going to get as far away from here as possible. Just, please, if you're going to nuke the place, give me a little time to get away, huh?" She gave a timid smile, reaching behind the desk and grabbing a knapsack. She slipped it on even as she exited, starting to jog towards the way already cleared for her by Shepard's guns.

Shepard couldn't quite suppress a slight smile as the asari started to run like hell.

* * *

><p>Okeer watched, grunting quietly at the monitor feeds before adding a few more notes to his private file. The specimen was almost ready to decant, he only needed a few more moments. As he waited for the machine to finish prepping the last few imprint samples, he couldn't help chuckling over the images tapped from the feeds. Rana had done well hiding them from Jedore, but Okeer had root-level access to the systems, something not even Jedore had.<p>

The figure in the video moved like a warrior, competent, self-assured. She wielded seemingly-puny weapons, but they packed quite the punch. He checked a few status readouts and nodded to himself. His footfalls were heavy as he moved over to the tank, now hissing and grinding slightly as the automated machinery ground it slowly onto the float-pallet, the figure within floating within the hyper-oxygenated fluid, now starting to gurgle away from the krogan within.

"Soon, my son, you will see a true warrior at work."

* * *

><p>Jedore snarled orders into her comm pickup. "Flush the tanks! Get that heavy mech up here, we're going to-" She cut herself off as the door on the far end of the cargo bay burst inward. The smoke cleared rapidly, but her troops were caught by a blistering array of fire. Jedore swore. She didn't speak most languages, but she knew curses in asari, turian, quarian, krogan, and even some salarian, although those last were rather weak. She had six men with her, plus the heavy mech, and whatever krogan were still left in these tanks. She -really- didn't want to have to deal with this shit herself, so she assigned Kazorian to deal as she networked with her shuttle, giving them orders to land in this bay, not the secondary site. She wanted him to land -on- the fuckers, if needs be.<p>

Four of her men fell in the first three minutes of fighting, Jedore screaming at them to keep the geth _back_, don't you idiots know _anything_? Once the krogan started in, though, she noticed just how dangerous that asari was, and started coveting those pistols of hers. No pistol she knew of packed enough punch to keep a krogan down after just eight shots. She readied her rocket launcher as the heavy mech strode into the bay, it's IFF transponder identifying targets she designated.

'Time for mop-up,' she thought, as she selected the remaining idiot trouper as well as the commando unit.

* * *

><p>Shepard sighed as the mech strode into the bay. That loudmouth commander just -had- to have had one of those annoyances, didn't she. Well, at least she was getting practice. Two of the geth had been taken down by the commander and her second, but Legion had put a bullet through his shields and kept him from doing more damage. The krogan were more annoyances than real hazards, since her reflexes were fast enough to pump several times before their shields initialized.<p>

The merc captain was proving more of a problem, though. The bitch had apparently picked up a rocket launcher, which she wasn't entirely certain she could deal with with impunity. So, with two major targets, she had to pick the more dangerous one. The heavy mech would probably be more of a threat. Priority one, then.

Shepard rolled from cover as the mech's latest missile blasted into it, pistols thundering almost as fast as it's Revenant as she rushed towards it, dodging the stream of slugs and skidding to a stop between it's widely-spaced legs. She grinned slightly as she rolled to a kneeling position. "Legion, Garrus. Keep Jedore pinned for a bit..."

She holstered her pistols, then pistoned her legs upwards, slamming her knife-hand blow into a joint between armor plates. The mech gave a mechanical squawk, and Shepard nearly giggled as Legion apparently told it to shut up. She ripped the tertiary access panel open and shoved in her other hand, her fingers arcing as she let loose the current bound within her arms, shaping the magnetic field to lance deep into the mech's balance control circuits. With luck... there.

The mech warbled and ground it's gears, it's legs, hips and arms immobilized, only able to swivel the flexible turret of it's gun now, and they could avoid it's narrowed field of fire now. "Clear."

Just then, something slammed into her back. _Hard_.

* * *

><p>Jedore was absolutely furious. She had spent nearly a quarter of a million on that mech, and now it was nothing but scrap! She snarled as the rocket launcher rapidly assembled another round, and fired at the commando that fried it's inner works. She was, by gods, going to make that fucking bitch <em>pay<em>!

* * *

><p>Shepard rolled and snapped up, both pistols out without conscious thought as the second missile whooshed from the launcher. Jedore had already ducked back into cover as the round accelerated towards her. Almost without being aware of it, her mind registered velocity, vector, attitude, acceleration, and orientation, her arm flexed minutely, and a bolt of electricity flashed through her gun.<p>

The round, powered by that charge, snapped down the launch rail at accelerations normally found only in assault or sniper rifles, and left with the blue arc of an electric discharge snapping from the end of the barrel. It flew straight and true, intersecting with it's target and detonating the incoming missile round just as Jedore rounded from the cover to fire another. Instead, her eyes widened, jaw unhinging.

Shepard couldn't help it. She _smiled_.

* * *

><p>Jedore was thunderstruck. She had <em>shot<em> the _missile_ in _midair_! Almost without thought, she aimed and fired again. 'That had to be a freak-' her thoughts derailed as the other pistol in the asari's hands thundered and again, the missile detonated in mid-flight. Jedore's teeth ground together, suppressing a snarl as she flipped the machine from single-fire to rapid. 'Let's see if the bitch can keep up with this...'

This time, when she rolled out of the cover, the bitch was about halfway from the mech and moving _fast_. With a snarl of "Eat this!" Jedore pulled both triggers at once, setting the launcher into rapid-fire. The recoil was fairly light, but almost constant as rocket after rocket left the launcher, the next almost getting washed by the first's exhaust. She only had enough heavy weapon packs for about eight or ten of these things, which at this rate would be exhausted within fifteen seconds, but this bitch had _really pissed her off_.

* * *

><p>Shepard rolled, dodged the first two, came up in a crouch and began to fire as she got to her feet. She had a good idea that the missile-wielding maniac was the boss of this particular group of Blue Suns, and she wanted to brand fear into the heart of the organization. she hadn't had much chance to do so with Tarak, what with not leaving him alive to report, but she could send this one back...<p>

Her guns cracked with single, flat finality, each bullet precisely intersecting the targeting computer and detonation matrix of the missile, each one blowing prematurely as it's payload and remaining propellant cooked off. she began a slow advance on the now-backpedaling figure. Memories of Anvek washed through her, the image of his staff swinging in rapid blurs, both defensive and offensive, rippling through her mind almost too fast to comprehend. Six rockets so far and just five paces from the target. With a blurred motion, she dropped her right pistol onto it's magclamp, turning in a spinning arc to avoid the seventh rocket, her arm extending towards a piece of half-destroyed railing. She _thought_, visualizing the magnetic field as a rope of power stretching from her palm to the railing, a bridge of magnetic force that grew exponentially in power as more and more electrons were freed from their orbits, and sent whizzing round and round her arm's internal structure, generating the field her mind built field line by field line.

* * *

><p>Jedore couldn't believe her eyes. <em>No one<em> is _that_ good! This was no asari, it might be a new type of anthroform Geth, and if that's true, she _had_ to destroy it and get the pieces back to Blue Suns HQ. They'd pay megabucks for the pieces. Her first two shots had gone astray, but the third through sixth had been shot down in midair, with _single bullets_. Missiles could be shot down with enough volume of fire so that at least one bullet would hit a vital spot, but this inhuman precision was beyond Jedore's experience.

But then the droid, figure, whatever, dropped one gun, spun it's back just as the seventh missile streaked past, and reached out it's right arm to a piece of railing. Jedore's eyes bulged as the railing bent, flexed, tore with a scream of metal, and _flew_ to the outstretched hand just as her eighth and last missile tore free of the launcher.

* * *

><p>Shepard heard the launch, and couldn't restrain a wide, manic grin under her helmet as she twisted, completing the spin she had begun earlier, using the fulcrum of her hips and shoulders to bring the piece of railing around in a brutal, flat arc, taking a lunging step sideways from the missile's line of flight. The thunderclap at the tip of the bar reversed Shepard's spin, and she used it, whirling back the other way and hurling the remaining half of the railing bar straight towards the madly scrambling figure.<p>

* * *

><p>Jedore had dropped the launcher as soon as the last missile was away, but she hadn't been able to keep her eyes from the figure as it <em>hit the missle like it was a baseball<em> with the length of polyalloy. 'Just what in the seventy seven hells _is_ this thing?!' her mind babbled as she struggled to yank the SMG from her hip. She felt the thud against her armor and was falling before she realized what had happened. Then the pain ripped through her leg and she let loose a high scream as her left leg collapsed under her weight.

The segment of railing had neatly penetrated through her armor and shattered her knee. Evidently the thrice-blasted thing had hit her with some sort of overload to drop her shield. She felt the medigel dispensers struggling to deal with the injury, but it'd take a skilled surgeon to rebuild the shattered joint.

She sensed rather than saw the figure stride up to her, and lifted the SMG as it knelt. Through the fog of pain, rage and fear, she sighted and fired, fired until the clip was glowing white hot and the automatic shutoff clicked the weapon back into safe mode. The figure hadn't moved. It's shields had gone down, and it's armor was now pocked and scarred with bullet impacts, but evidently it was using some new sort of alloy designed to resist small-arms fire. It merely crouched there, both guns on it's hips now, and quite clearly designed with a female aesthetic in mind. Jedore gasped and hissed with the pain, her eyes slits of hate as she stared back in defiance.

* * *

><p>Shepard studied the woman, not flinching as her shields cracked and allowing the cryoplate to take the brunt of the small-caliber weapon's fury. She wanted this one <em>scared<em>, so showed no fear as the woman let the weapon slump. She couldn't quite keep the amusement out of her voice as she spoke.

"What did you think that would accomplish?" She nodded to the discarded Tempest.

The woman spat in her face, or at least, on her cryoplate's helmet. "Go on and kill me, if you're going to."

'Valorous, but misguided. We'll have to break that.' Shepard considered a moment, then grinned. She had it.

"I'm not going to kill you. I need you as a messenger."

* * *

><p>Jedore's heart lifted slightly. She had given her best and been beaten. She fully expected to die, as the weak always do. But this, this... This wasn't exactly <em>charity<em>, which she despised, but...

"What message?"

The figure reached up, under it's chin, snapping something there. Jedore went cold. If that was, indeed, a _helmet_... just what the hell species could have _that_ level of precision?!

The helmet rose, hissing, and a blast of air so cold it created frost on the figure's shoulders emerged. The skin of the throat was blue, pale as deep ice. The eyes... the blue of a very hot flame or deep arctic ice and glowing with an inner fire that scared Jedore on a level she didn't know existed. Hair the color of snow, glistening white. But what stopped Jedore's breath and made her heart race was the shape of the face revealed. She _knew_ that face. She'd seen it plastered all over the extranet for the past several years.

She breathed softly, almost willing herself to disbelieve the evidence of her eyes. "Sh-Sh-Sh-Shepard..."

* * *

><p>Shepard's lips quirked slightly, and she gave a slight nod. "My message is to your bosses, and the rest of the merc forces in the Terminus Systems. Stay out of my way, and you'll continue to live. Obstruct me, or, gods help you, attract my ire..." She glanced pointedly around the shattered cargo bay.<p>

the woman gulped and nodded, her eyes huge with fear now. Shepard nodded and rose. "I know you have a shuttle inbound. I'll wait until you're on board and give you one minute to clear out. If you're still in atmosphere when that time elapses, I'll have to find another messenger."

The soft whimper told Shepard she had made her point. She stepped over the prone figure, ignoring her completely as she moved across the length of the bay towards the sealed bulkhead door. Legion claimed that that was where Okeer was lurking.

* * *

><p>The old warlord was just putting the final touches on the tank when the door clanged open. He turned, grinning widely at the sight. Such a warrior. He had watched with an awe he had not felt in centuries as the figure decimated the forces arrayed against her with a brutal viciousness that was very krogan. The quartet of geth marched at her back, the quarian and turian at her right and left hands.<p>

"Welcome to my laboratory, Warrior. It was a pleasure watching you work."

The figure stopped, it's helmet under it's arm now, and giving the warlord a slow, appraising stare. "Are you Warlord Okeer?"

"Yes. If I am what you seek."

The figure nodded, pursing her lips and moving forward. One hand handed off the helmet to the turian, the other removing something from her belt. "By the authority invested in me as a Council Spectre, I arrest you in the name of the Council. if you come quietly, there won't be any need for restraints. Fight me, and...well. You saw."

Okeer nodded. He had somewhat expected this, but had hoped it wouldn't be quite this soon. He rumbled, "I will come quietly, as long as we bring my legacy."

The woman's brow arched, and she glanced at the tank. "What legacy? Another Krogan? what's so special about this one?"

Okeer couldn't resist the urge to explain. It was one of his bad habits, long known and equally long fought. "I acquired the knowledge to create one pure soldier. With that, I will inflict upon the genophage the greatest insult an enemy can suffer. To be ignored! We will not need numbers. My soldier is a template. It is a greater threat than all the phantom siblings that would have been at its flank. The galaxy still bears the scars of the krogan horde. But it will learn to fear the lance."

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she only asked, "Will you come without fuss? Or will I be forced to knock you out?"

"I will come quietly. My work here is finished." And with that, Okeer, Warlord, Scientist, Veteran of the Krogan Rebellions, bowed his head and offered his wrists to the restraints.

* * *

><p>He had heard voices this time. Not the ones in his head, and the images before his sight weren't the crystal-clear ones of the imprint. They were pale, muted, muddy, and smudged around the edges. He didn't know why, or why he should care. He lay, awaiting some sort of trigger. He didn't know what, and it didn't matter.<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard finished securing Okeer's wrists as the Blue Suns shuttle landed. She watched through the transparasteel window as the squad dashed out, ducking from cover to cover as they recovered the wounded woman and the bodies of the squad that died defending her. She regretted the loss of life, but she was a Spectre, and sometimes you had to break things to get to your target, even if those things were heads.<p>

The shuttle lifted off with a powerful boost of it's engines, sending debris whizzing through the cargo bay as it boosted hard. Her lips twitched slightly. Evidently she had put the fear of God into the woman if they were willing to risk damage to the shuttle by boosting at max power in an enclosed space.

She nodded to the geth to lead Okeer away as she turned back to examine the tank. It stood mostly upright, the krogan within unlike any she had seen so far. Instead of a single head-plate, he (she assumed it was a he) had several. His eyes were open, an astonishing pale-blue. He was fully armored, though how Okeer had managed -that- she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She checked and found the control panel easy enough, and she recognized the tell-tail coils of a float-pallet at it's edges. She navigated menus as best she could with a Krogan to English translator function on her omnitool.

The sudden hisssss and the draining of the fluid in which the krogan floated made her jerk back in surprise. The tank split open, the krogan falling forward onto his knees. He hacked and spat to clear his lungs, gasping in a lungful of air. As he regained his feet, his strange, blue eyes stared into Shepard's, seeming to glow in the deep recesses of his brow. 'Almost like mine,' floated through Shepard's mind before the krogan let out a loud roar and rushed.

* * *

><p>He knew what to do, but not quite how to ask. He pinned the figure to the nearby wall, transparasteel, and spoke. His voice hurt after so long in the tank, but pain was nothing, a thing to be ignored.<p>

"Asari. No. Not Asari. Unknown. Female. Female? No matter. Before you die, I need a name."

* * *

><p>Shepard hadn't expected a newborn krogan to be docile or helpless, this one less so, but still. She reacted on instinct, getting her fingers wedged into his gut before he noticed what she was doing. "My name is mine. Give me yours before I allow you to know mine."<p>

"Not your name. Mine. I am trained. I know things, but the tank... Okeer couldn't implant connection. His words are hollow."

Shepard struggled a bit, but she couldn't break his grip. She was strong, stronger than any human had a right to be, but she didn't have the raw brute strength of a krogan, especially not this one, what Okeer called his legacy. "I don't know what your name is. Didn't Okeer give you one?"

"No. He spoke at me, but not to me. The tank gave me knowledge, but no meaning. Give me a name."

Shepard thought for a beat, then came to a decision. She worked her jaw minutely, opening a comm channel. "Okeer. Your...Legacy wants a name."

"WHAT?!" The roar of Okeer's voice resounded in her ear. "You were supposed to _move_ it, not _open_ it!"

"Well if you put the damned directions in English I would have! Legion, get that overgrown toad back in here. His creation wants a name."

The door opened, this time Okeer in the lead, striding with the ponderous momentum of his race. The blue-eyed krogan glanced at him, eyes narrow, studying, then back to Shepard.

Okeer grunted softly, gazing at the living proof of his success. "A soldier you were born and bred to be, so your name shall be Soldier."

The new krogan glanced at him, taking in the restraints and the lack of weapons in the presence of armed warriors, then back to Shepard. "You name me. He is not master here."

Okeer roared at him, "I created you! I! I spent blood and pain on your design, thousands of prototypes washed out, to make you, the perfect krogan! I made you to be the perfect soldier, a fighter, a trooper, Infantry, the finest grunt that the galaxy has seen!"

The blue-eyed krogan blinked slowly, resembling a lizard even more acutely. "Grunt. That word has no meaning. It shall suffice. I am Grunt. If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me."

Okeer stepped back, eyes narrowing, and recognizing this situation at last. Shepard gritted her teeth, and her eyes blazed with iridescent fire, and she let a large jolt of power flow through her arm and into the krogan. One of the nice things about them was that their dual nervous systems kept them on their feet despite massive damage. On the flipside was that it was also an easy path for electricity to follow.

The new-named Grunt gave a cry as she poured the power into his body through a rent she had forced into his armor. It wouldn't be enough to kill him, but it'd cause considerable pain and his muscles would spasm. "If you so desire."

Grunt dropped her to the floor, staggering away as Okeer lurched forward, only to be dragged back by the four geth surrounding him. Garrus laid a hand on Tali's shoulder, giving her a squeeze.

Shepard followed smoothly, her body flexing and snapping up a leg in a perfect half-spin, catching the new krogan square on the chin. The force imparted spun him almost ninety degrees, pirouetting on his toes, then he gave a roar and lunged back at her. This time, she was ready and swept out of his grasp, dropping to one knee and slamming her elbow into his knee at terrific velocity.

Grunt gave a grunt of pain and went to one knee as Shepard regained her feet in a fluid sidestep. She laid her hand, almost gently, on the back of his head, fingertips pressing into the cracks between plates. "You're dead. One wrong move, and I fry your brain. Even a krogan cannot recover from that."

She lifted her hand slightly as the young krogan gave a slight sound of affirmation. "Best decide what you want. You can stand alone here, a free krogan to do as you will. Or side with Okeer and share his fate." Her eyes glowed fiercely as she gazed straight at Okeer.

"I feel nothing for Okeer's clan or his enemies." Okeer started slightly at that. "I will do what I am bred to do - fight and determine the strongest. But his imprint has failed. Without a reason that's mine, one fight is as good as any other."

Shepard thought for a moment. "I have a strong ship and a strong crew. The geth follow my command. With you, we would be stronger."

Grunt gave a short laugh. "If you're weak and choose weak enemies, I'll have to kill you."

"Our enemies are worthy." Shepard relaxed her hand slightly.

Grunt seemed to consider for a moment. "That's...acceptable. Very well. I'll fight for you."

Shepard withdrew her hand and helped the youngster back to his feet. "I'm glad you saw reason. I would have had to knock Okeer out if I had been forced to terminate you. I don't want a rampaging krogan on my ship, though. One wrong move and I'll have you sedated for the rest of the trip." Her eyes snap to Okeer. "Both of you."

Okeer bowed his head, eyes gazing intently at her. "Understood."

"Good. Then let's get the hell off this rock."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Sooooo sorry for the length of time between the last update and this. I keep having to hunt longer and more extensive missions to locate and retrieve my muse. This time I managed to get this written up and polished over one weekend of frenetic activity, but I have no idea when my next bout of inspiration will strike. Please forgive me for the irregular updates! *Hides from thrown veggies, toasters, and grenades*


	17. Chapter 17

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**Shoutout:** Thanks go to Darman Sejuk for assisting me greatly with this fic, even roughing out scenes for polish. He's a great guy, very patient with me for assing around when I should be writing. Also, a huge THANK YOU to ArchAngelGundam, who's posted a comment on almost every chapter. I write for people like you, Archie! ^^ So, without further ado, here's the Tuchanka chapter!

**WARNING!** Some rather graphic descriptions inside, you have been warned!

* * *

><p>Citadel Demilitarization Enforcement Mission -<p>

Captain Karakius watched the oddly-shaped shuttle dive into the burning heat of Tuchanka's atmosphere. He suppressed a shudder as he remembered the forbidding face of Councilor Tevos. She had informed him in no uncertain terms that the agent aboard was indeed a Spectre, and had the full backing of the Council, and he had best not do less than fully cooperate with any and all requests. He had immediately granted full clearance for that ship to pass to and fro as needed, but he still felt a chill. Not just a Spectre, with the tacit approval of the Council, but one on a fully sanctioned mission and with full backup from the entire Citadel Fleet if she wanted it. He hadn't actually -seen- the agent, just heard her and received an odd Spectre recognition code, one that his terminal had at first listed as 'inactive'. That was why he had bounced the query up his chain of command. He hadn't expected that chain to reach -that- high up. He couldn't help it, he shivered slightly and hoped that whatever business this mysterious Spectre had on Tuchanka, she finished it and left without making his pleasantly boring life far more exciting than he could deal with.

* * *

><p>Tuchanka, Shuttle Approach -<p>

Shepard glanced over at Tali, who was bouncing slightly as the geth-piloted shuttle slipped carefully down the vertical pipe in Tuchanka's storm-lashed surface. The quarian girl was excited to see Wrex again, the old krogan had been something of a mentor to her while on the Normandy, teaching her the basics of hand-to-hand self-defense, enough so she wouldn't accidentally shoot herself with her shotgun if someone got too close to her. He had taken her under his wing, to some degree, making sure that the crew hadn't harassed her too much, not that she needed it with Addams personally vowing to deck the man who made her cry. Garrus was checking over his rifle. Again. Shepard smirked slightly at the turian's almost religious obsession with maintaining his equipment. Then again, when one didn't know when or where the next batch of replacement parts were going to show up, one had to make certain that one's equipment didn't jam at an inopportune moment. Mordin had declined to venture onto Tuchankan soil, stating a prior visit that had unpleasant memories attached. Shepard knew better than to pry.

Grunt and Okeer hulked at the far wall, the latter's wrists still clamped firmly. Once Okeer had learned he was to be taken to Tuchanka to face krogan justice, he had attempted to escape. Once. Krogan or not, Shepard had put him down hard. Sometimes her unfair advantage was more of a field-leveler than an unstoppable weapon. It had taken swarming up on the rampaging krogan's hump and threatening to fry his eyeballs if he didn't go quietly before he finally stopped trying to bash his way through the airlock door.

She straightened slightly as the shuttle settled to the concrete of the landing pad. She nodded to Garrus, who's mandibles flexed slightly. The scarred one was slightly lower than the other now, but it only served to give him a sort of rakish grin, the top teeth on that side permanently exposed. Tali didn't need to suit up, but Garrus did, to filter out the radioactive fallout still lingering in Tuchankan atmosphere, and he slid his helmet on with a soft hiss. The hatch whined open, exposing the dusty-red world of the Krogan.

The krogan guard gestured for them to exit, growling quietly as first Grunt, then Okeer exited behind Shepard. She had decided to go the intimidating route, selecting the chromed armor instead of the glossy black one. Legion had a small armory in the back of the ship where he could re-fabricate worn, damaged or destroyed armor into something new, given enough time. So far, he had claimed to be working on something more substantial for her, involving exoskeletal struts and servos, which took time to fabricate. Shepard didn't mind, though she on occasion wondered just what he was doing in there.

* * *

><p>Tuchanka, Urdnot Headquarters -<p>

'By the Ancestors! I knew uniting the clans would take time but not this long.' Urdnot Wrex struggled not to fall asleep while halfheartedly listening to the badgering of Gatatog Uvenk. Back when he conceived of this absurd endeavor, he could just have shot the annoying and stupid krogan, but after what Shepard taught him two years ago, Wrex realized that he'd have to work with all of his race, not just a select few if he was to make any difference in the long run.

As Uvenk started on another rant about how he was disregarding tradition with his action, Wrex noticed a small group out of the corner of his eye. He was about to disregard the group until with a start he spotted two that he would happily call his krantt.

He recognized the Turian instantly from the clan markings and the characteristic sniper rifle attached to his back. At least he finally managed to get a few scars to impress the females. The Quarian next to him could only be the spunky kid, even with the change in the outfit. What stood behind her startled him when he realized that there were several Geth standing guard around a very old and hated enemy of the Krogan race. He knew, through his contacts in the Council that the Warlord was being brought back to face his crimes, but the Geth were a different story altogether.

"Heh, things are finally getting interesting around here." Wrex muttered mainly to himself as his eyes traveled from the group to two others that had split off from the group and were observing the area. Even from his throne, Wrex could smell the young blood coming off the Krogan, indicating that this pup was on the cusp of adulthood and would need to take the rite of passage soon. The other observer perplexed him though, he got no scent from her at all, other than the machine-oil and metal scent of armor.

Deciding to dismiss the ranting of the crybaby Uvenk, Wrex launched himself from his throne and strode purposely over to the group, his lips pulling back in a welcoming smile. Once he got to within arm's reach of the quarian, Wrex wrapped his strong arms in a bear hug around her and actually lifted the petite alien off the ground.

"Yeep! Wrex, dammit, put me down, you boshtet!" Yup, same old Tali.

"You've grown, little one! look at you, you handle that shotgun like a pro, now!" He chuckled and nodded to Garrus as he set the female down. "Looking good there yourself, Garrus. What happened, love bite?"

The turian's no longer symmetric mandibles spread slightly in a grin. "Not exactly, but close. I pissed someone off. He had a gunship."

Wrex gave a booming laugh. "Ha! well, watch yourself, Garrus, the females really go for those battle scars." He turned to the third, who had hung back a little. He noted that the youngling seemed to have taken up station just behind and to her left. Enough out of range not to interfere with any move she made, but close enough to assist if she asked. 'Well-trained youngster, then.' "And who might you be?"

The figure, her metaglass visor mirrored, bobbed her head slightly to the krogan chieftain. "A Spectre. Urdnot Wrex, I bring you a good-will gift from the Council. We found your trash for you. What happens to it is up to you." She (and Wrex had enough experience with humans now to tell) turned and indicated the dark-plated face of Okeer, who growled and gnashed his teeth, but seemed quite subdued in this petite female's presence. "He says his name is Okeer. No clan affiliation."

Wrex took a step back, surveying the ancient Despoiler. "Okeer is a very old name. A very hated name. Do you know what he did, Spectre?" When she shook her head, he continued. "He's the last of his clan. He hoodwinked several other clans into believing he had a vaccine for the Genophage, soon after it was deployed, but it wouldn't work on infertile females. The clans he deceived sent him their fertile females, and stood rearguard for Okeer as he made his escape. When they caught up with his clan, the found every last one of those females butchered. Flayed open. Their ovaries removed." Wrex's ruby eyes glittered as he glared into Okeer's. "He's the reason Clan Krenshak, Clan Uroz, Clan Kethir, Clan Laarat, Clan Sikkun, and seven others are extinct."

The Spectre hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the prisoner. "I...see. Well, if I had known that when I caught up to him, he wouldn't be here now." She faced back front again. "My orders form the Council are to deliver him to you for justice, as an act of good-will. Do with him as Krogan law dictates."

There was a rustling murmur as Wrex studied Okeer, ruby eyes meeting sulfurous yellow, before Okeer cast his eyes down. "huh. Shaman, what say you? You are the guardian of Krogan custom, what punishment fits the crime?"

The shaman shuffled forward, his eyes riveted on Okeer, growling slightly. Tali and Garrus shifted uneasily, moving out of the way as the Geth kept Okeer under control. The shaman studied Okeer for a long while, before turning, almost having to tear his gaze from the captive. "Let Tuchanka judge him. Give him three days water, but no food, and drop him into the Great Desert. If he survives long enough to reach a settlement, let them decide what to do with him."

Okeer jerked his head up, glaring at the Shaman as Wrex nodded slowly. More rustlings and whisperings, some growls from the older krogan, but mostly puzzled looks at Okeer. "Yes... Let the desert devour him. Give him three days water, and drop him a thousand klicks into the White Desert. Let Tuchanka gnaw his bones."

The elder krogan made as if to lunge at Wrex, but every krogan around reached for a weapon. They didn't need to, though, the four Geth combat platforms yanked him back. He roared in protest, struggling mightily as six scarred krogan came to drag him away. "I will have your head for this, Urdnot pup! I! Will! Have! Your! Head!"

Wrex stared at him for a while, then slowly, deliberately, turned away from the shouting krogan. Okeer howled, but was dragged away.

* * *

><p>Shepard could barely hold in her glee at seeing Wrex again. Her hands wanted to clout the krogan's hump and say hello properly, but she kept herself in hand. After Okeer had been dragged off to whatever fate awaited him, she had sent the geth platforms back to wait in the shuttle, as they plainly disturbed Wrex. Even as they strode off, he asked tali about them, and she explained how they had contacted her with an offer of a ceasefire and possible total cessation of hostilities. Wrex looked dubious, "After we slaughtered so many of them? and what about you, Tali, you really believe they don't want to fight anymore?"<p>

She shrugged slightly, bouncing a little in that endearing little way she had, "We've worked together for several weeks now and, well, they're still a bit to get used to, but at least these aren't shooting at us."

He chuckled quietly, giving Tali's shoulder a pat, "Well, for you that's good. Just remember what I taught you."

She recited, a bit of an amused lilt in her voice, "Keep your gun well-maintained, your eye alert, and find someone you trust to watch your back. I remember, Wrex."

Shepard grinned behind her mirrored faceplate. She had been there when Wrex gave Tali her first few lessons, and recognized the line. She schooled her features and stepped up closer, "Warlord Wrex, I have a few other things to discuss with you, if you have the time." She glanced over at Uvenk, who had watched the entire proceedings from his place near the throne. "Somewhere where we can't be overheard."

Wrex cocked his head at her, curious. "Alright." He glanced about, then up, "This way." He led the group through a doorway behind his throne, through a short corridor, through one of those wide Tuchankan doors, and through an antechamber into what was clearly a krogan-style living space. A slab served as both couch and chairs as the big krogan fiddled with his omnitool. A soft beep sounded, and a muffled hum rippled through the room. "There. Sound baffling system is up and running. I occasionally have to make deals with certain clans that it would not be wise for other clans to know about. What was it you wanted to discuss, Spectre?"

Shepard couldn't resist a wide, cheerful grin, reaching up to unclasp her helmet seal. The sudden rush of freezing-cold air over her pauldrons caused instant frost to feather her armor with a rime of ice, carefully pulling her helm free and tossing her head slightly to unstick her hair before gazing straight and direct at the Krogan. "For one thing, my identity. It's good to see you, Wrex." She grinned uncontrollably at the sight of a flabbergasted krogan.

* * *

><p>Purgatory -<p>

Warden Kuril was not happy. If the reports that he's received from the mission to guard their production of Krogan soldiers was a complete failure. It would seem that the So called supplier of troops decided to back stab them and start releasing berserk forces against the blue suns garrison that was stationed there. Per standard procedure Jedore started a clean sweep of the facility and local area to remove any evidence of their actions but after they started things began to turn for the worse.

From what he could piece together, an outside force pierced their anti-air screen and made planetfall. From what the sensor records could show one of the personal in the drop ship was thrown from the cabin and made a hard landing. After that the reports and scans started to become unclear, as if someone was jamming the transmissions.

As Kuril finished that thought, he heard the elevator to his office reach his level and open. At this point there is a hallway that heads towards not only his office, but the bridge and the primary engineering level for security reasons. As the occupant of the neared the door to his office, Kuril started to wonder what Jedore's excuse for this failure would be, and what the punishment for one of his top lieutenants should be. After his door chimed that an authorized code had been entered and the door swooshed open, Kuril waited with his chair turned around so that the lieutenant could stew before he grilled her over the failure of her mission.

After a moment she said one word.

"Sir".

With that one word, Kuril realized something was terribly wrong. He quickly turned around to discover what the problem was, and he was stunned by what he saw. Jedore was leaning heavily on a crutch made from parts of a rifle. The need for the crutch was evident, with her knee looking like someone worked on it with a buzzsaw. Her armor looked like it was in close proximity to an explosion. It was her face that shocked him the most. Half of it looked like a grenade blew close by and the other half was as pale as paper. As his eyes traveled over his lieutenant he managed to catch her eyes in a stare that spoke volumes about how the mission fared, and why the only troops to return were in her shuttle.

"Tell me what happened."

Kuril gestured to the chair opposite from his, punishment forgotten in light of what she must have gone though. As she began to report on what happened, Kuril cross checked what she said with what the records and sensors told him. When she got to the part of Geth forces with several aliens and an unknown experimental synthetic, he started to worry about her. When she got to the point of the unknown throwing a piece of the railing through her knee in retaliation for the missiles, he subtly winced while she clutched at the wound. When she revealed that the unit wasn't a synthetic but an actual person, one that should be dead no less he began to worry about her mental state.

"I've got proof, sir." Her omnitool out and played exactly what the woman had said. As the message finished Kuril leaned back against his chair and blew out a breath that he hadn't realized he had drawn.

"This is not going to end well. We need to notify all Blue Sun bases to be on the lookout for Shepard and to not provoke her in any way." He started saying out loud, but before he could reach for his terminal to broadcast the warning and try to contact his counterparts in the other merc groups in the traverse he noticed that Jedore was about to start speaking.

"Sir, I agree that precautions need to be made in light of Shepard's return, but I think that I need to take a break from the action for a while. To clear my head and to have my knee and other wounds treated properly." She spoke plainly, but Kuril caught the trembling note voice. She had been more badly shaken up by the incident than she was allowing to show on the surface.

Knowing that the Blue Suns medics weren't up to the kind of surgery needed to reconstruct her knee, he decided to allow her the medical leave . Against what the surviving mercs' omnitools had documented, he doubted that he could have done any better during the mission.

As Jedore made her way to the door of his office, Kuril could hear her muttering about having her physical therapy on one of the colony worlds, maybe Horizon. Kuril turned to his terminal and began filling out the paperwork for Jedore's leave, while hoping that when she returns, she'll be back to her former self.

A stray thought froze him in his tracks for a moment, then he carefully saved and filed the paperwork, bringing up a list of bounties. He knew it had to be there... ahhhh. Warden Kuril of the Blue Suns penitentiary vessel Purgatory slow spread his mandibles in a wide, wicked smile.

* * *

><p>Tuchanka, Wrex's Private Quarters -<p>

Wrex sipped at his third ryncol. "So, let me get this straight. Your ship was shot to pieces, you got spaced, fell through the atmosphere, and crash-landed on top of a spire of crystal on Alchera, which then proceeded to make, well, -this- out of you?"

Shepard smirked, "To put it in a nutshell, yeah." She sipped her own ryncol. It had a pleasant buzz to it, and something about it pepped her up. Possibly some sort of chemical reaction with her crystalline guts, she supposed. She'll need to have Mordin check it.

"You -do- realize that sounds suspiciously similar to what the Geth were doing with those colonists of yours on, what did you call them, those Dragon's Teeth?"

Shepard set her glass down, suddenly serious. "I know, Wrex. I'm not certain what they did to me, but at least I'm -alive- to talk about it. And still myself, though admittedly, a bit different."

He grinned at her, knocking back the rest of his drink and pouring another. "Just glad it's you, Shepard. I knew the Void couldn't hold onto you. You're the best battlemaster I ever had, made me consider things I hadn't really thought about in centuries."

She grinned slightly, "You still call me Battlemaster, Wrex? My, that's quite an honor, -Warlord-."

He guffawed and raised his glass. She clinked against his, grinning unrepentantly as the pair drank. "So, what brings you to me, aside from returning a bit of old bother?"

"The Reapers are still coming, Wrex. I suppose you figured that, since you're trying to build up your race into an army." He nodded and she continued, "Good, keep doing it. I'll need them when the time comes." She gave him a soft smile, "It'll be just like old times."

He snorted, "Nothing can be like old times, Shepard. We won't be charging head-first into danger, guns blazing."

Her eyes twinkled as she chuckled, "Nope. This time, we'll have an -army- at our backs."

Their mingled laughter filled the room.

* * *

><p>Lazarus Station, Normandy CIC -<p>

Two hours. That is the time needed to finish prepping for launch the part-finished super-frigate that was constructed from improved plans for the original Normandy stealth frigate to finish being prepared for launch from the hidden station.

As Miranda walked down the path from the cockpit towards the elevator situated behind the CIC, she couldn't help but spy the open panels and missing consoles around the room that showed that the ship was far from complete, even though this area and engineering were the two most completed sections of the ship. As she walked past the yeoman that was currently double-checking the computer systems, the yeoman took a covert glance at the operative in charge of the final stages of the construction, and was shocked at what she saw.

At a glance, Yeoman Kelly Chambers instantly knew that something was horribly wrong with the high level Cerberus operative. From the near constant twitches in her left hand to the deep bags under the eyes. She could tell that even though the operative was wearing makeup to cover the more apparent symptoms of sleep deprivation and, from some symptoms, drug abuse.

As she continued to covertly watch Miranda, the operative opened her omnitool. "Is the reactor online yet?" But she couldn't hear the response.

Once she finished the conversation, Miranda turned to the yeoman, "We'll be leaving dock once the rest of the personal are on board. Notify me when we are ready."

With that, Miranda started to walk towards the elevator end of the CIC. Kelly voiced a question in a confused voice. "We're leaving now? What about finishing the rest of the ship?"

Just before the door of the elevator closed Miranda looked over her shoulder and simply replied with, "We're joining her."

"Her?" Was all Kelly Chamber repeated in a confused tone before it dawned on the yeoman what the operative meant.

* * *

><p>Lazarus Station, Normandy Elevator -<p>

Miranda leaned against the wall of the elevator, breathing deeply from maintaining the facade of the expert operative, instead of the quivering mess that had taken her place. As her left hand stated to reach towards the pouch with the injector of the drug that she had been using to escape the nightmares that 'that face' had been plaguing her since Freedoms Progress she stopped the movement with her right hand. She activated her omnitool to check that the orders to secretly continue the scraped project, building the upgraded Normandy, hadn't been noticed by anyone outside of her group. All those on board were those that had joined her cell with the understanding that they were joining the crew of Commander Shepard. Finding such a large group that was loyal to Shepard, even though she had been missing for two years, was a stroke of luck. With this insular group helping to finish the ship, it had only been a small matter to use her authority to falsify the records for the ship's parts as being 'disposed', instead of being shipped here to make the vessel space worthy.

As she focused on the status reports of the ship to distract her from the growing itch for the injector, she had to admit that the ship's crew were quite disciplined. They focused on the navigational and engineering systems first, while only sketching out the basics for the crew compartments, making do with hot bunking and a singly operational shower. As the elevator door opened on the crew deck, she headed for her quarters, silently hoping that the information on the next location of Shepard's ship was accurate. She would finally be able to confront her nightmare and do the right thing.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you soooo much for being patient for this! I'm so, so sorry I didn't get around to finishing this for so long. Not a lot of action this time around, buuuut, we're still on Tuchanka, and (sniff) Grunt's growing up! (they grow up so fast these days...) ^^ So, I hope to have the next chapter up and read sooner this time, wish me luck!<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

**PHOENIX RESURGENT**

A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

* * *

><p>Shepard was just stepping out of Wrex's little pad when she passed through the edge of the sound-dampening field when she heard the full-throated roar of a krogan. She didn't have quite enough time to turn, but she <em>did<em> see the pieces of a varren hurtling her way. Instincts kicked in, as old as humanity, and she spun, hand lashing out to catch the largest chunk, which turned out to be a hind leg. Wrex emerged just then, and Shepard assimilated the rest of the scene. A total of seven, no eight krogan were involved, two were holding back a krogan who was spitting and snarling in rage at having his varren killed. The rest were on the ground, holding down...

"Grunt? What's going on?" Shepard strode forward towards the scene, Wrex right behind her.

Grunt was on his back, vivid-blue eyes wide and rolling, snarling and snapping, pinned down by three burly krogan. Wrex took one look, sniffed, and nodded. "He needs the Rite. Summon the Shaman."

One of his guards moved through a doorway as Shepard turned towards him. "Rite? What Rite?"

Wrex nodded for the guards to let Grunt up. He had stopped thrashing and seemed sullen, about as close to contrite as a krogran ever got. "The Rite of Passage. It marks a krogan becoming a full adult."

The green-plated krogan nearby, who had been arguing with Wrex when she arrived, had been watching with some disapproval. Now, he narrowed his eyes and stomped past the pair. "Too far, Wrex. This thing is not krogan. Okeer's bastard legacy shall not sully what is left of our race."

Wrex glanced after him. "Idiot. But, his clan is powerful, so I have to keep him around." His glaring, crimson eye moved back to Grunt, staring into the electric-blue of the young krogan's. Just then, two more krogan arrived. One, if Shepard was any judge, was older than Wrex, with a different style of armor, one that looked almost patched together out of old furs and hide. At his side strode the green-plated krogan, glaring balefully at the leader and the youngster.

The elder was speaking as the two neared, "You go to beyond yourself Gatatog Uvenk. The rites of Urdnot are dominant. You may not interfere in this."

Undeterred, Uvenk snarled back "How do we know it will challenge him? He is unnatural, the product of a dishonored mind! The beasts of the Rite may not even attack him, more likely to ignore him like a lump of plastic."

"They know blood no matter the womb. Your barking does not help your case." The pair arrived, Uvenk glaring hatefully at Grunt. Shepard felt moved. She had been there at this krogan's birth, and felt, to some extent, responsible. She moved beside her teammate, glaring back through her silver-mirrored faceplate. Ahh, if only Uvenk could see...

Grunt growled softly and spoke up, having turned to watch the pair approach, "I'll speak for myself."

The Shaman gazed over Grunt's face, "So, this is the tank-bred that had Uvenk in a twist. You seem quite alive to me, you even smell correct," His eye swiveled to glare at Uvenk, "Your protests grow more hollow, Uvenk."

"Grunt has earned the right to be here, regardless of this idiot's bleating." Shepard spoke, taking her cues from what she remembered of all those countless hours of talk about the Krogan people with Wrex in the Normandy.

The Shaman laughed, "There's some fire, and from an alien. Oh, the shame this heaps on those who whine like pups." The shaman directed that last at Uvenk.

Uvenk bristled, "If this must stand on ritual, then I invoke a Denial! My krantt stands against him, he has no one!"

Shepard couldn't quite restrain the growl that rose in her throat, but stepped between Grunt and the Gatatog, "I stand as his krantt. I will fight for him, and I will kill for him."

"Bah! Aliens don't know true strength! My followers are true krogan. Everything about Grunt is a lie."

Shepard had had enough. She stepped forward, calculating angles, vectors, force required, and took a precise forward swing, her arms sweeping up slightly with the force of the blow. Her helmet cracked into the krogan's plate with stunning force, sending Uvenk staggering back two, three paces before he lost his balance and fell on his rump. Sputtering, he responded with "Y-You... You _dare_?!"

The shaman was laughing even as Uvenk scrabbled ignominiously to his feet, "I like this human! She understands!"

Uvenk snarled as he stomped away, "I withdraw my denial. This will be decided elsewhere."

Even Wrex was chuckling as the Shaman spoke to Grunt, "Then let us begin the Rite. Come. We shall journey to the Keystone. There, the beasts of Tuchanka will test you, and you will prove yourself to them to be true krogan."

Shepard hung back as Wrex's guards began to decamp with the others. "Wrex, anything special I need to know about this?"

"Just fight, Sh- Spectre. You do it well, and Tuchanka won't kill you."

She twisted, switching her visor's mirroring off to give Wrex a cocky half-smile. "I'm not sure Death will try taking me a second time, old friend." She twitched her fingers and tugged her guns from their magclamps, "Hold these for me."

Wrex's eyes widened slightly, "You'll need those."

Shepard couldn't restrain the soft laugh. Really, she felt _fine_, antsy, buzzed, like she could take on a whole division of troops by herself barehanded. And with her new body, she probably could. "I'll be fine, Wrex. I always am. You of all people know..." She reached, and dug into her power, building the bridge, forcing it into existence with precisely calculated lines of magnetic force, and tore a piece of rebar free of the concrete, about two meters long. It whizzed past a startled krogan and slapped into her outstretched palm with a clank, "that I'm never weaponless."

Wrex gave a deep-throated chuckle, "Then have fun, old friend. I'll be watching. It should be a good fight."

* * *

><p>Wrex and the shaman, along with a fuming Uvenk as well as the rest of the representatives from the other clans had filed into the hardened bunkers around the arena. As the young krogan stepped up to the Keystone, the Shaman took his place by the microphone. Wrex suppressed a grin. This was going to be <em>fun<em>.

* * *

><p>Shepard had trouble staying still. She hadn't felt this energetic since she changed, and the only time she had ever come close was that time she had nearly overdosed on stims on Elysium. Going for fifty seven hours straight, she had miss-read the time and had taken a stimshot slightly too early. She stepped quickly as Grunt moved to the button, idly twirling the staff. Garrus had decided to go with the pair, if only to keep an eye on Shepard.<p>

"We going to start this party or what, Grunt? Hit it!"

The young krogan chuckled and punched the button. The shaman's voice boomed from concealed speakers as Shepard spun, pacing back the other way, her staff idly tapping on the concrete rubble, first one end, then the other. "First, the krogan conquered Tuchanka, and mastered a natural world only we were fit to hold." While he had been speaking, the massive pillar of granite and rusted steel had been slowly ratcheting into the air. Then, it came down with a staggering impact, the shockwave rumbling out through the ground around them. Shepard's eyes gleamed.

Combat. She lived for it.

* * *

><p>"Twelve credits the turian doesn't last the first battle." Wrex just snorted. He had recognized Garrus. That hard-headed sonofabitch wouldn't fall to just any old beast. 'Some great monster has your number, old friend. I hope I'm there to see it.' The Shaman regained his seat as the rolling impact of the Keystone rippled through the bunker. Krogan were lined up at the lower viewing ports, watching the arena, and leaving the clan heads and the Shaman to watch from the superior viewpoint. The impact jarred loose something across the field, and Shepard spun to face it almost before Wrex had spotted it. 'She's good. Better than before. She'll survive.'<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard knew those howls. She had killed dozens of them already, but she still felt slightly insulted as the waves of varren bounded through rents and cracks in the far wall. "Fishdogs? Fishdogs?!" She turned towards the keystone, "Is that all you've got?"<p>

Garrus was grinning. Shepard was in fine form today. His assault rifle began cracking, each shot precise and true as he started mowing the underslung-jawed alien animals. Grunt merely roared and got closer, his shotgun thundering. But Shepard merely strode forward, her staff spinning idly until she was in front of the other two. The varren had split into two unequal groups. One, maybe about eight or nine, were heading around the side towards Garrus's position. The other, much larger, maybe twenty all told, were headed straight for Shepard and Grunt.

"Might want to find cover, Shep, these things-" Garrus blinked. He was _sure_ she hadn't moved, but the first varren was slumping to the ground and skidding a bit, minus it's head. Then the next two charged, and Shepard _moved_, her staff spinning so rapidly it seemed to blurr out of existance.

Garrus's mandibles sagged a moment, before a varren got close enough to charge. 'Spirits, thank you for returning her to us.'

* * *

><p>The fight was over in a very short time. Shepard was pounced by a large number of the varren, but they quickly started trying to avoid her as the staff she carried whirrled round in a deadly, dizzying spiral, each strike a deathblow, fast and accurate, with no suffering to the animal. Grunt picked off the ones that got past her, and Garrus merely watched once he had dealt with the ones to the side. Shepard ended with an intricate, dazzling display that ended with her crouched over, holding the staff with one end planted firmly in the concrete. She had impaled the last varren's braincase.<p>

Grunt chuckled, "Now _that_ was impressive."

Shepard turned, giving a little bow, and using one arm to yank the bloodied staff from the varren's head, "Let's get on with it. There's got to be something better to fight."

* * *

><p>Wrex supressed a chuckle. 'That's Shepard, always leading head-first into battle.' The Shaman grunted a bit as he levered himself up, heading over to the microphone again as the party of three approached the keystone once more.<p>

* * *

><p>This time, the Shaman's voice thundered out, "Then, the krogan were lifted to the stars, to destroy the fears of a galaxy, an enemy only we could chase to their lair." The thundrous thud of the keystone hitting the anvil from two-thirds height rocked even Shepard on her legs. She spun, head snapping this way and that, staff held easy in one hand, but clearly eager for the battle. Grunt was proud to call her his Battlemaster. He had done some checking on the geth ship, and apparently Urdnot Wrex himself had once refered to her such. If the leader of the most powerful clan on Tuchanka called this woman his Battlemaster, she was indeed worthy of the title.<p>

Shepard spun, staff raised, as something landed off to one side, some flying creature of great size, dropping something that skittered. Grunt's imprint supplied the name and necessary information. Klixen. Armored, and capable of spitting two chemicals that, when mixed in the presence of oxygen, burst into flame. Dangerous. "Shepard, best keep your distance from those!"

Her head snapped towards him, faceplate blank, and belatedly he remembered she had told him not to use that name. "Why?"

"They spit fire, Spectre!" Indeed, just then the first had gotten close enough to engulf her in flames. He roared, his hearts thundering in his ears as he charged forward, shotgun bucking savagely as he pulverized the armor of the beast, leaving it to explode. The turian's gun chattered off to one side as Grunt gazed in awe at Shepard. She stood, flames still licking off her armor, one arm upraised, apparently examining the chemical fire clinging to her.

"Huh. Right. Time to get fancy." Her tone was playful, and Grunt grinned. This was going to be fun indeed.

* * *

><p>The bunkers were mostly silent, watching the massed klixen swarming over the trio. It quickly became apparent that none of them were even getting into flame-range of the trio on the raised platform anymore. The turian held them off on one side, with the krogan's occasional assistance, but Grunt wasn't doing very much damage, occasionally picking off one that Shepard missed. Her staff blurred past him from time to time, but he had gotten used to it after the third such passage.<p>

Shepard snapped her arm to the side, spinning through a quick series of steps as the staff hurtled past her to impale another klixen, spearing through both fluid sacs and making the poor creature detonate with a shriek of pain and rage. It seemed everything on Tuchanka hated everything else, because even the other klixen started shrieking when one of their number fell. Shepard pulsed her power, her staff tearing loose from the flaming corpse, and arcing around her in a tight curve before snapping out again into another creature that was getting too close.

Her eyes blazed with blue-white fire as she drew on her power. She hadn't had the chance to practice much with it, but it was similar enough to her old biotics that the mnemonics she used to use for Lift and Throw were having the desired effect. Though now, she could almost _see_ the field lines she built glowing an iridescent violet in her mind's eye as she forced the power to ripple and flow within her. Her generators whined near overload, but she ignored it. She didn't need to do this for much longer.

A swift ripple of power, a yank, a curve, and a shove, sent the staff spinning end over end to lodge between the eye-clusters of the last klixen, which had been making a suicide-run on Shepard in an attempt to kill her. With another yank, she drew her weapon to her, and a stray spark set it afire just as she caught it.

* * *

><p>Wrex let out a soft, low whistle. He'd seen her pull off some pretty amazing shit before, but this was something else. Shepard was whipping that staff around like an asari adept playing with her biotics. And he <em>knew<em> she wasn't using traditional biotic power. 'Just when I think I've seen the bottom of your bag of tricks, Shepard, you pull out something else to keep me guessing.' He most wholeheartedly approved. An enemy that you didn't know the capabilities of was a dangerous foe indeed...

* * *

><p>The Shaman's voice boomed and rolled through the arena as Shepard punched the button for the Keystone. The ancient stone-and-metal pillar began rising, and she watched as she listened. "Now all krogan bear the genophage, our reward and our curse. It is a fight where the only goal is survival!" The Keystone reached it's full height, and Shepard, her senses dancing with the rush of power, could follow it down to impact. The titanic shudder that rippled through the ground rolled out, but this time she was ready for it. She grinned. The rumbling wasn't passing! Something big was coming!<p>

* * *

><p>Garrus nervously checked the diagnostics on his rifle. He would've liked to do a full check and calibration, but he barely had time for a quick-and-dirty scan before a sound grew that he recognized. 'Ohhhh, shit.'<p>

He glanced around, rifle raised, pointed at the surrounding hills. "Spectre! That's a _thresher_!"

* * *

><p>Grunt laughed. Ohhh, this was <em>good<em>! A foe worth the effort it took to kill! Thresher maws were the most dangerous creatures on Tuchanka, and he was about to fight one! His battlemaster was truly the best. She found him the best things to fight.

* * *

><p>Shepard's eyes widened. images riffled through her mind, too fast for others to comprehend, but she understood each one with perfect clarity. Each maw she had found and killed on so many worlds. The remains of the massacre on Akuze. A rush of fear rippled through her spine, and suddenly, she missed her guns. 'Ahhh, fuck.'<p>

She brought her staff up as the Maw burst from the ground, whirling away from its first spray of acid. Something was slowing her down, she was loosing her edge. Her power sizzled in her nerves, rippling through her mind, but she wasn't able to concentrate on it, even if she was at max-cryo. She got behind a pillar, glancing aobut for any sort of weapon to use on a foe like this. Her dinky little staff wouldn't cut it, the maw's armor plates were thicker than the staff was long. She spotted a few thermal clips laying near a dead krogan, glanced over where Garrus had switched over to his sniper rifle.

"Garrus! Gimme your AR!"

He snapped his head to her, eyes wide, "What the-"

"No _time_, damnit, we have to kill this thing before it kills us!"

Without further hesitation, he grabbed the assault rifle off his back and, taking a moment to let a splash of acid go past, hurled it to her. Her mind saw it coming, calculating trajectories in exquisite detail, noted the tumble, and the fact that it would land just short of her hiding spot. The Maw let loose a titanic roar, and there was a bone-shaking shudder is it withdrew. The ominous grinding sound Shepard knew so well told her to change cover _fast_, and she snatched the gun out of the air as she rolled to a new position. As the maw burst from the ground, she was already rolling into a shooter's crouch, eyes lining up the sights and hardsuit syncing her HUD to the new equipment.

'Alright, you overgrown earthworm, let's see what you've got.'

Shepard added the thunder of the gun to the roars of the thresher.

* * *

><p>The noise within the bunker was near deafening. Krogan were cheering on either the maw or the trio. More and more people were switching to the maw, even after the dazzling display of power by the Spectre as she battled the klixen. Bets were being made, changed, exchanged, and paid off. Wrex didn't care. He was begining to worry. He hadn't seen a thresher this large attend a Rite since he himself had taken to the field. His lips curled slightly, remembering the cheering that had accompanied the end of <em>that<em> Rite. Still, Shepard had faced maws before, though never one this large. 'She'll survive. If what she told me is true, the Maw might _eat_ her and still not kill her.'

* * *

><p>Grunt was in heaven. The fury of the maw was matched by his own endurance and the thunder of his shotgun. He reveled in it, the adrenalin surge, the red mist ringing his vision. He knew the blood rage from his imprint, but if this was it, he experienced it differently. It didn't cloud his mind with the need to kill, it sharpened his senses and gave him clarity even in the midst of a struggle for his life. He stepped twice to the side, avoiding another splash of acid and returning fire, standing in the open as the Maw roared and weaved above him. He rolled violently to the side as the Maw crashed earthward, trying to scoop this insignificant insect from the earth and swallow him hole. He brought his gun up even as he was skidding to a stop, firing three times in rapid succession at the eyestalks that wavered atop it's ugly face. He knew the others were firing, he heard the chatter of an assault rifle and the deeper thudding of a sniper rifle. Still, this was what he was created to do. His blood sang with joy and battlelust.<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard didn't know what was going on. Her mind registered the threat, her body reacted, but she had to struggle to focus. It was almost as if-.<p>

"Shit." She whispered the word, pausing in her firing. 'The ryncol. I didn't know...' The Maw took exactly the wrong moment to act. She was still exposed, vulnerable, and not firing, and didn't react in time, so lost in her inner turmoil. The large splatter of acid caught her right in the face. It ate through the faceplate with horrifying speed, and she barely managed to get the helmet off before it got to her head. but the backsplash had coated most of her upper torso with the stuff, and she couldn't undress fast enough. The high, tortured shriek that emerged from her lungs was more akin to twisting metal, or the Maw's own cries, that that of a mortal woman.

The acid **_burned_**! Though it slowed considerably on contact with her substance, it was still _eating_ her _alive_! The pain was worse than she had imagined, writhing and struggling and shrieking in pain, struggling and thrashing, rolling out of cover in her agony. The thresher didn't waste an opportunity, and Shepard's cries redoubled as another splat of acid coated her lower half.

* * *

><p>More roars from the bunker. Wrex didn't hear them. His eyes were locked on the writhing figure, his will urging her to get up, to fight on, as she always had before. Even death couldn't stop this one, but she lay there, writhing in agony, even as Garrus risked his own life to drag her to safety. Grunt was busy at the moment, keeping the Maw's attention on himself even as his battlemaster was injured.<p>

* * *

><p>Garrus scrambled at the quick releases, racing against time to get Shepard out of her armor before the Maw's acid got to her even more than it already had. The sounds she was making... They tore at his heart, and made him wince. He managed to shuck off her outer plates before the acid had eaten through them, but little pieces of dissolving metal had made it through the underlayer, and little flecks of lighting were dancing over the spasming woman's body. Shepard's eyes were open, but she wasn't responding, though at least those tortured shrieks had ceased. "Shepard, can you hear me? What do I do?"<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard heard Garrus through the mist of pain. 'Always the good soldier, always looking for orders.' She struggled to focus, couldn't find him. Something was wrong with her eyes. She could see a rushing mass of dark-violet light to her right, and turned slightly, disregarding the agony involved as she did. "Garrus.. hhhhelp..."<p>

'Spirits, her _eyes_...' "Help how, Shepard?"

She grunted, her voice weak and slurry, but still vibrant. She gestured weakly, indicating for him to turn her over. She supressed a hiss of pain as he did so. "How bad is it?"

Garrus winced slightly. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, but...she had asked. "Your armor's gone, most of it melted, the rest unusable. The undersuit managed to catch most of the acid, but I think you're going to have an interesting set of scars." He hesitated, then sighed. "...It got your face too, Shepard." He held up a hand as her eyes widened, "You're still you, but it did something to your eyes. They look cloudy. Maybe a splatter got them, I'm not sure." 'May the spirits grant that they heal...'

* * *

><p>Shepard was in shock. She could still see, sort of. But her eyes... She had been damned lucky not to take any serious damage to them throughout her military career, and was proud of the fact. Her eyes had been a vivid, deep green before her transformation, and now... Her teeth gritted, despite the pain. Despite the fear.<p>

"...Help me up, Garrus. It's time to kill this fucker."

* * *

><p>Wrex gave a sigh of relief as Shepard got unsteadily to her feet. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, and only grudgingly to himself, but he didn't want to see his former battlemaster fall. She brought so many <em>interesting<em> fights...

* * *

><p>Grunt was almost delirious with pleasure in the fight, despite the fact that he knew if he made one wrong step, he'd be lunchmeat. That only added to his glee. His gun roared, firing back at the Maw as it weaved and lunged, missing him by a mere meter as it crashed into the platform. Then he heard his battlemaster's voice, even through the haze of his bloodrage. "Grunt! Keep it occupied for a bit longer, then retreat to me!"<p>

He glanced asside, a quick, rapid movement, but took in the scene with that single flicker. Shepard was standing, supported by Garrus, between two of the rickety pillars. She nodded slightly to Garrus, and he darted away, past the pillar Shepard was near, and taking shelter behind the corner of the raised platform itself. His sniper began to thud into the air again, but Grunt had his hands full just then. The thresher was getting annoyed. He wondered why Shepard had given him those orders, but it wasn't his place to question his battlemaster in the middle of a fight.

* * *

><p>Shepard couldn't see the maw, exactly, just the flickers of electrical impulse where it directed its muscles to fire, and the furnace-glow of its brain-sac. Grunt was standing out like a fireworks display to the side, and his gun was a small sun in his hands. She could see the magnetic fields each of their nervous systems made about them, shielded or not. She still had a good deal of charge left, but this was going to drain her, and even after Garrus gave her as much as his own suit could spare, she wasn't sure if it was going to be enough. She glanced up at the two dark shapes above her, seeing them more as potential energy curves than anything else. She took a breath, held it, exhaled. And stopped breathing. She summoned her power, her arms starting to glow as she stretched her hands to the sides. The act of moving hurt in ways she couldn't describe, but this <em>had<em> to be done. She gritted her teeth and increased the power, whirling streaks of blue-white fire spinning just inside her surface as she built the fields. As she ramped up the power, the towers lit up, the moving magnetic fields, gathering strength from the increased flow, swept over them, causing electrical currents, which in turn generated their own magnetic fields. She almost paused in wonder at the beautiful sight, but the maw's shrieks of rage drew her back to the task at hand. Up and up she forced the power, the torn remnants of her undersuit only partially disgusing the light playing from her, and as the power built, she felt herself slowly lighten, then lift. Yes, she needed all the leverage she could get for this.

* * *

><p>The startled cries of the krogan were a dull roar in Wrex's ears. He stared at Shepard, the eerie blue-white light playing around her, watching her rise into the air to hover between the two pillars, which were now crackling with electrical discharge. 'Just what in the Void are you doing?'<p>

* * *

><p>"NOW!"<p>

Grunt heard the cry from an odd angle, but he didn't hesitate or question. He merely turned and ran. He didn't see shepard at first, then glanced up and nearly stopped in awe. But he could hear the thresher behind him, giving a grating shriek of triumph as it began to lunge, and sprinted forward, between the two crackling pillars. He turned as he vaulted the railing of the upper level, determined not to miss this sight.

* * *

><p>Shepard's eyes blazed, and she was unaware of her own shriek of pain, determination and effort. Her entire body glowed through the rent and torn underlayer, her hair standing on end and waving in the magnetic fields as she pulsed her power ever higher. With tortured screams, the metal bases of the pillars were starting to twist and bend, cracking like gunfire as the Maw shot past and <em>below<em> her. She couldn't help but grin as the thought arrowed through her mind, 'Perfect timing.'

With a twist and an agonizing blast of power, she summoned up everything she had left. The pillars shrieked, then began to fall, crisscrossing as she fell sideways, unable to maintain her altitude as the magnetic fields changed shape. The maw was caught between the hammer and the anvil, and the pillars crossed and thudded to earth with a deafening crash, jagged bits of electrified metal crashing through the thresher's armor plate with the force of an express train. Shepard landed with a boom off to one side as the maw writhed and thrashed, trapped and shrieking in agony as raw lightning poured through its frame.

* * *

><p>Grunt saw the maw's predicament, and acted without thought. Without waiting for orders or even to check on his battlemaster, her charged, roaring louder than his shotgun as he sped towards the side of the maw's trapped mouth. He dodged a flying mandible, and noted that slowly the maw was starting to extricate itself from the pile of metal. He wouldn't give it time. With a bound, he landed <em>on<em> the thresher, stepping between the eyestalks and blasting one free of it's head even as he _bit_ into the other. The taste of its strange blood completed his frenzy and he began firing indiscriminately, screaming challenges as he stamped and bit, punching and gouging into the trapped head of the beast.

* * *

><p>Even Wrex was impressed. The feat Shepard had pulled off, toppling the towers, was one he had seen before, but never like <em>that<em>. Usually it took three krogan per tower to topple them, and never that precisely. But Grunt's antics were egging the crowd on. Caught in the midst of bloodrage he may be, but Grunt's shots were still accurate, his blows still good. He broke the skull of the thresher like a hammer, and was actually stomping his way through its brains before he got control of himself again. 'A fight they will tell of for centuries to come. As usual, Shepard, you don't disappoint.'

* * *

><p>Shepard needed Garrus's help to get to her feet again. That hadn't taken everything out of her like her frenzy on Omega, but it still had mightily drained her. She blinked several times, hoping that her eyes would fix themselves, or that Mordin could give her something to fix them. Garrus was a collection of interesting lines of force, his metal-infused plates giving him a decidedly odd look in her new vision. 'I guess I couldn't just tell him he looks beautiful, but he does, in his own way..'<p>

Grunt approached, splattered in gore and grinning wider than she had ever seen Wrex grin. "That was great, Spectre. You find the best things to fight."

Shepard chuckled weakly, turning as the massive door in the side of the keystone complex opened, a group of krogan emerging. "I try, Grunt. But sometimes, things just find me."

* * *

><p>Uvenk was furious. This <em>thing<em> was not krogan, even if it had slain a thresher. He would not allow it to contaminate what was left of the krogan gene pool. His voice was gravely with supressed rage as he spoke. "You live. And you brought down the thresher maw. No one has done that in generations. Urdnot Wrex was the last."

Grunt retorted, his voice still rapid from his excitement, "My krantt gave me strength beyond my genes. Which are damned good."

Uvenk stepped forward, ignoring the youngster's boasting. "This will cause discussion. I wonder... You say you are pure? No alien meddling in your construction? Just the warlord Okeer?"

Shepard spoke up, "-EX-warlord. But yes. The best krogan traits are distilled into Grunt. He's designed to be perfect."

Uvenk shot Shepard a scathing glance. "Being designed is the problem. But not made by aliens. And he is powerful. That is a tolerable loophole." He'd give Grunt the chance he lusted for, then do away with him quietly somewhere else.

Grunt seemed confuzed, "A what?"

"A reason to accept you. You are a mistake, but your potential could tip the potential balance of the clans." 'Yes, by giving Urdnot yet another wedge to drive into the dying corpse of what remains of our purity.'

Grunt could feel the rage rising once more. "You spit on my father's name. On Shepard's name. But now you stop ranting because I am strong?"

"With restrictions. You would not breed, of course. Or serve on an alien ship. But you'd be clan in name."

Shepard wouldn't let this go unchallenged. "You talk like he's a thing. You're just after his power. You don't really want him in your clan." Her eyes seemed to be getting better a bit, she could start to distinguish between lightness and darkness. She thought. She hoped.

"Of couse not. I didn't really want to cooperate with Clan urdnot either, but I had to. Clan Gatatog is on the verge, either of greatness or of joining the dust. I get traditionalist support if I fight you, and reformer support if I back you. Your Rite of Passage tipped that balance too."

Shepard restrained a smirk, turning to the dark collection of vivid-violet spirals that represented Grunt. "It's your choice. Sounds like an easy job."

"That's the problem. I'm pure krogan. Uvenk, _you_ are the pretender!"

Uvenk had thought it would come to a fight, and his squad were well-equipped to deal with a freshly exhausted krogan pup. "Your head is valuable, whether you're alive or dead."

Grunt whipped up his shotgun, "Just try to take it." His voice had a note of insatable hunger to it. He had gotten his first taste of true battle, and he wanted _more_!

Shepard acted before anyone else moved. Her hand smashed into Uvenk's chestplate, sending him back on his ass, even as her other hand reached, and her power pulsed. She may not have much juice left, but a low-power lightning bolt still stopped the other two krogan in their tracks. "Enough! You've been beaten, Uvenk. Surrender now, and I'll spare you. Press this, and I _will_ end you."

He struggled to get up, his breathing disrupted by the impact. "You...You're no krogan, you have no say in this!"

"I am Grunt's Battlemaster. I am _Wrex's_ Battlemaster! I am _The Shepard_, and I have survived where any krogan would fall." She gazed into his eyes, her own brimming with power. She was starting to make out some details of his armor, though his nervous systems were mostly what she could see. "You are beaten, Uvenk. Let it go, to fight another day. Or do you choose this day for you to die?"

There was complete stillness among the other krogan for a moment, then a low murmuring. Uvenk glanced over his shoulder, seeing his krantt start to holster their weapons. He growled and swung back to Shepard. "I yield. This day. But if you set foot on Tuchanka again, I'll make sure you never leave."

Shepard's voice was soft, "I've survied worse than Tuchanka, Uvenk. Spend a year on Alchera, no food, no supplies, no _suit_. _Then_, and only then, you will have earned my respect."

The defeated krogan gave a wordless growl, turning and stalking off, his rage nearly palpable. Grunt laughed, "You put him in his place, Shepard. But why didn't you let us fight?"

"Because I need every krogan I can sway to my side, Grunt. I don't dull my knife before battle, and to stop what's coming, I'm going to need every krogan who can pull a trigger all facing the same direction." She turned to him, holding out a hand, "Best put your arm around me, Grunt. That took a bit more out of me than I thought."

He blinked, then got it when Garrus slid an arm about her waist, and between the two of them, they supported Shepard into the complex.

* * *

><p>AN: My humblest appologies for not chunking this out and getting it to you faster, but IRL shit hit the metaphorical fan, and I've had to deal with the resulting fallout. Sometimes I reeeally hate my life. v.v In any event, I hope you enjoy! And as always, Read and Review!<p> 


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